So Far To Go
by You Don't But Thanks Anyway
Summary: Six months after the Hellmouth closed, Faith left to travel on her own. Now she's coming back. But there's a lot more to the story.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I, of course, own none of anything Joss Whedon or anyone else has created. I own my plots, my storylines, and my characters.

**Author's Note:** This story is littered with flashbacks and/or references to things that have happened earlier on (things that are not told in this story) that are fictitious but fit with the plotline, meant to give some hint to what happened before the start of this. _Anything on its own, separated from other text, __in italics__ is a flashback/memory._ Also, the only AU part of this story is that Cordelia is with the Scoobies, for amusement's sake - you'll see. She fit the bill for the kind of character I wanted to have around. Please review!

**Prologue**

The woman moved through the alley, her path dimly illuminated by the glow of nearby streetlamps, the air thickened by steaming vents and fog. Had an onlooker been present, they may have seen this as a cliche foretelling of something. She could not see the end of the alley through it. Her eyes, belying her age, cut around at her surroundings, cautious and impatient. She was acutely aware of the girl's presence; waiting for the right time to appear. It was the age. No fear.

There were no footsteps, nor breathing, or movement; but there was a shadow breaking away from the thick darkness that engulfed the walls of the surrounding buildings, moving through the steam and haze. A face came into view, partially, beneath the few streetlamps and the prominent, striking features caught the woman's eye as they had before. The look of complete fearlessness; confidence with power and strength. She stood ready, firm, conscious of every single thing in the universe around her.

The full lips parted. "You're late." Dark hair framed her face, darkening her already murky eyes.

A ghost of a smile. "You're early."

"I'm punctual. It helps." She spoke in a bold, self-assured voice; she had done this, and probably much else, several times before. "What do you want?"

"I asked you to come because, as I'm sure you are aware," she gave the young woman a wanton look, speaking not as a superior but as a cheeky companion, "you hold a great deal of power within you. You're highly skilled. I know what you're capable of." She paused. "I want you." Her voice contained a matching confidence.

There was no impressed or surprised attitude offered, only a cocked eyebrow and an amused, dark grin. "Well I've heard_ that_ before. You have to sell me on it first." No fear. No apprehension.

"You've seen and done a great deal in your travels, as I'm sure was your intention. You certainly did away with more - unpleasant creatures, and experienced more dangerous situations than can be counted. I know that it's honed you into an even more supreme being than you were before." The light in her eyes flicked down to the necklace around the girl's neck for an undetectable moment in time. "I could use you."

"Sorry, I'm a one-man team." There seemed no break in her defenses; compliments and praise alone did not faze her, were nothing new.

The woman laughed deeply in her throat, barely opening her mouth. The sound might have unsettled any normal person; but this girl was very far from that. "My dear, I can offer you much more than you have been offered before. Believe me." The light in her eyes shone brighter.

"I seem to like what I have now pretty well. I chose it." She emphasized her words, staring hard and deeply at the woman.

"You're going to find that you will have many choices." She paused. "Can you always choose the best?" Her eyes seemed to bore right through the other woman, but still she did not so much as flinch.

"Is this all you wanted?" Cutting the meeting short.

A smile, somehow more unnerving than the laugh. "I will see you again."

And the girl was gone in an instant, without another word, the shine off her necklace the last thing the woman catching as it vanished from view.


	2. Chapter One

**Europe  
****August 2004**

There was something odd about the fountain. She knew as she stared at it, its 20-foot perfectly sculpted stone arcs towering above her – though she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. She walked to the large, smooth, rounded edge that was cool to the touch and looked into the water. Where normally there might be pounds upon pounds of coins spread about on the bottom, there were hundreds of pieces of glass, all different shapes and sizes – enough so that one would almost think the actual bottom was completely covered. Glittering and glistening, they were littered all across and winking up at her as if they knew something she didn't, their light being bent and moved about by the ripples at the surface.

She had stumbled upon the architecture quite by accident - one moment she was moving with a very clear objective in her mind, fully aware of where she was heading, and then next: she was here. She still wasn't sure how it had happened. She had turned a corner thinking to find a particular building and found this.

She was mesmerized by the unique beauty of it. She had never seen anything like it; and yet, it may have seemed to any other ordinary person any other ordinary fountain. But it was drawing her in, captivating her. Her eyes flickered over the dancing lights created by the pieces; she couldn't look away. Something was stirring inside her, a feeling that spread outward from her core, buzzing about everywhere in her mind, every nerve and hair of her body. It was like a warm, soft electricity.

Maybe there _was _something she didn't know.

She gave a quick glance around - though had she really been looking, she would have noticed that even the few late-night venturers nearby were acting as if there was nothing there to be seen - then promptly heaved herself over the three-foot high stone boundary and into the cool depths.

She realized immediately that her instincts had been correct: her booted feet hit slick rock, and she was very much as dry as she had been a moment before. She took in her surroundings warily. She was in a type of cave, with dim unknown light sources bouncing off pools of bright blue water that could have been made up of crystals. The ripple reflections covered the walls, creating animated light that flowed all around her. Before her there was a small, quiet waterfall spouting from nowhere into a water pool directly in front of her, and she thought she could just detect a soft, barely audible melody, somewhere between a hum and singing. It came from no particular place, but it filled the cave. For whatever reason she felt extremely calm and at ease, as if she had just walked into a familiar place she had been longing for.

She began to walk toward the water pool, curious to see if it held anything.

At first she lazily thought that the flicker in the corner of her eye was a trick of the light and the waterfall combined; but when she saw it again, moving slightly, she looked up, alert.

She almost thought that the gold she saw was part of the waterfall, still; it was shining that much. But then she realized that it was connected to a face, and the face to a body, and the whole figure itself caused any calm and peacefulness within her to vanish abruptly, as if she had experienced an incredibly powerful and sudden heart attack; as if she had been swept through bodily and had the feelings removed physically from her, only to be replaced with an altogether different set.

She stumbled backward, eyes wide, her breath suddenly coming out short and fast and hard. She almost slipped on the wet rock but righted herself, flailing wildly, paying no attention to her own actions, her focus locked on the form across the water, just to the left of the waterfall.

The beauty of the sight itself, of the figure seemingly shining with the glow from the bouncing light and the perfectly aqua water falling beside her, caused her breathing to become more erratic as she could find nothing to say but "No…" while shaking her head slightly. She found her voice. "No, get me out of here." Louder. "Get me out! NOW!" She looked around, all above her, and repeated, "_Now! _Come on!" She couldn't find the reason in her distress and disbelief as to why it alarmed her so much; her heart was exploding within her chest. She couldn't stop herself from looking again across the water pool…

And then she was yanked up, everything momentarily blurred and swirled together, and she felt the solid cobblestone of the street beneath her. She would have landed on her feet had she not been in such a bewildered state. She looked up at the fountain, forcing her breathing to slow and steady, trying to regain composure. She sat there, having fallen backward upon her arrival, staring at the sculpture before her, her eyes clouded over.

_She smiled at her, feeling the smallest bit of contentment. "That sure was somethin', huh?"  
_"_Yeah. It was."_

_She wrapped her arms around her in a hug, the first she had ever received from her._

_She touched her face.  
_"_You have no idea how I feel."_

There was a damp spot on her shirt, on the left side of her chest, the moisture running down. After a few moments, she scrambled up and ran.

That was Faith's most memorable experience while traveling.


	3. Chapter Two

**Cleveland, Ohio  
****2004**

Bright rays of sunlight fell in brilliant shafts through the large windows of the home, letting its occupants know that morning had arrived. Everything in the newly finished house glinted from the yellow-orange glow of a new day. The sound of a tea kettle's shrill whistle was enough to wake those sleeping anywhere near the kitchen, at any rate.

"Every morning," Xander Harris grumbled as he shuffled into the room shortly after the high-pierced contrivance stopped, his hair giving him the resemblance of Robert Smith and his eyes half closed. "Do all British people make noisy tea at 8 in the morning?"

Giles consulted his watch. "It's actually 7:45." The watcher was still amused at the fact that no one in the house, save for him, could ever manage to wake up before the hour that most considered a perfectly decent time to stop sleeping.

"Great." The young man plopped down into a chair at the expansive wooden table and let his head fall to the surface with a thunk.

"You know for someone your age you sleep far too much," Giles said, placing a tea cup on a saucer. "Buffy's been awake for hours, it seems."

"Where is she?" he asked without lifting his head, his voice muffled and sleepy. He appeared to be on his way back to unconsciousness.

"Out for a walk, I suppose." He poured his tea.

* * *

Spring had to be one of the most enjoyable seasons available on earth. Every other tree was abloom with flowers of different colors, shades, and sizes; perennials littered the ground, sprouting up where grass was once again green and lush. Animals scampered about and birds were twittering madly away. Trees without flowers sported developing buds, making them standing testaments to the promise of life returning, and bringing the world out of the harsh coldness of winter. The days were longer, the nights shorter – always the best part for those who had the job of keeping it safe. The weather was ideal, the perfect temperature for anything one could wish to do, all variations of enjoyment. Everything just felt _natural._

This was partly the reason Buffy Summers had been taking walks so frequently lately. She could take pleasure in the beauty and perfection around her to try and offset the inexplicable feeling _inside_ of her that she couldn't grasp, and which certainly did not bring the peacefulness that nature did.

She had repeatedly attempted to put words to it; to try and comprehend it. Why did she feel so……

Empty? Devoid of something? Was that even what it was? The only thing she had ever felt before that was any kind of similar was when she was ripped from heaven and dragged back into the cruel bitterness of reality. She had felt then so many things within her that she could not explain, so many battling emotions and thoughts and fears. And now? Now she just didn't know how she felt. She was cut off, that much was certain. Like she couldn't relate to or find comfort in the people around her, the people who _should _bring her comfort and peace of mind. Not to mention her increasingly bizarre and irregular sleeping habits. She seemed to be in another plane of existence. She didn't blame herself for any of this; but she wasn't sure where the blame should go – what the underlying cause of this was, the heart of it. Whatever the reason was, _something_ was incomplete, was disjointed. Fragmented. Or else she wouldn't feel this way.

She had to find something to fill herself with. To ease this bewilderment and discontent she found in every thought and bit of emotion that passed through her. What use could she be otherwise? No matter what anyone told her, she was very aware of the unspoken fact that she still had the biggest duty of any Slayer, and the last time she let her own personal issues interfere with that, there were consequences.

The scenery out here was magnificent. Better than anything she could have hoped for in Sunnydale. She had found one particular spot that had a view of what could've been the whole country, forests, rivers, mountains and all, that faded off into the horizon. It was such an image of contentment and beauty that she couldn't help but return to it every time she left the house; almost as if she was trying desperately to wrap even a little bit of herself in some of that splendor. Buffy was eternally grateful that they had been lucky enough to find a house within their spending limits while the market was busy going haywire that still gave them access to things such as this. She wasn't sure what she would do without it.


	4. Chapter Three

**Europe  
****May 2005**

Faith had been on her own for over a year now, that much was certain. It was probably closer to two years. But who was counting? Time held little importance anymore. She was in the present, continually moving and acting. She lived by doing, by digging into everything she could get her hands into and ripping out the wrong; trying to redeem and liberate herself any way she could without suffocating. By filling herself with something; the only meaning she could find. She had always done - and felt - better on her own.

This particular night she had decided to take a stroll around her present city – somewhere in Spain, it might have been – and couldn't help but wander down an alley that was just beckoning her, the moonlight leading her way directly into it. These were by far the most fun. It was double her pleasure that she could faintly make out conversation that sounded meant only for those in particular that would be found in a dark alley late at night.

Itching with excitement, she took her time walking deeper into the mess of brick, steam vents, dumpsters and fire escapes, just knowing she would come across something eventually. She lived for this. The thrill. The way everything about it electrified her into something more than herself. She could feel it in every part of her.

The small cry of fear and subsequent harsh noise of a body being thrown into something let her know her senses were dead on yet again. She sped forward in a run, eager to find her new target, and came across the sight of what was most likely a demon, heavyset, heaving a young man against the brick wall of one of the surrounding buildings.

She sprang into action, jumping up high and whipping her foot into the side of his head, landing and throwing another kick out to swipe him off his feet. He turned to look up at her, a smirk of all things on his face, and she punched him square in the jaw. He responded by throwing his huge fist up into her chin, knocking her backwards with the sheer force of it, though she recovered quickly. He was back on his feet and stalking towards her; she spotted a fire escape to her left on the wall and leaped onto it in one swift move, swinging around and landing a flying kick to the back of his neck. He went tumbling to the ground as she landed on her feet. He moved to grab her legs but she quickly jumped out of the way, bringing her boots down hard onto his hands. He shouted in pain, withdrawing them immediately.

"You're too easy," she breathed, smiling and pulling her knife from the back of her pants. She gave him one last blow to the face, then in one swift move slit his throat. He faded away gurgling something she couldn't hear.

She turned to see if the young man was still there; it seemed he had been paralyzed in fear, clinging to the ladder of another nearby fire escape. He somewhat relaxed as she put her knife back.

"You okay?" she asked briskly, giving him a once-over.

"Yeah… I'm a little bruised up but I think…I think I'll be okay." He paused, fixing her with the look of awe she was now familiar with, having seen it on a nightly basis from all the others like him. It was something that had taken her a while to get used to, having only received punishment and wickedness her entire life and then having to live the one gift she was given in someone's shadow; and she wouldn't lie if asked if it made her finally feel good about herself, and about something she did. "Who are you?" Same question, too. People wanted to know who she was. No one had ever wanted to know who she was.

She smirked, none of her feelings showing through. "The best thing you'll ever know." With that, she turned and began to leave.

"Can I at least get your name?"

She stopped and looked back at him. Alone was better. Alone was easy. "I'm not big on making friends. Sorry."

He gave her an incredulous smile, laughing in disbelief. "So - so you just saved me from being _maimed_ and you won't even take two minutes to talk to me?"

"'Fraid not," she said as she walked away. She had heard it all before. Alone worked. Alone was good.

"I could help you!" he called after her desperately.

"I bet you could," she said under her breath, without breaking stride or looking back again.

"_I always did do best on my own."_


	5. Chapter Four

**Author's Note: **The chapters start getting longer. Promise.

* * *

**Europe  
****July 2005**

Faith was of the mind that if you wanted to truly learn about an insane group of demons, rather than bury your head in a book or spend hours doing pointless research, you were better off digging right in and getting your hands dirty. In Faith's case, putting on an act, finding an 'in' and then taking them out when they least expected it, taking as much time as necessary. This method was much more stimulating, and taught her more than she could have ever learned from sitting in a library or in front of a computer. The forces of evil, for having such a reputation, were rather dim-witted. They'd take anyone in who didn't immediately try to kill them.

It was for this fact that she was flying down a dim alley after some sort of creature a few yards ahead of her – she wasn't sure what it was – with four members of said group following speedily along behind her. They weren't anything special; they couldn't be picked out of a crowd. They looked like any human. That was partly the reason she blended so easily. She raised her arm, locking onto the movements of the thing, and whipped her dagger forward through the air. It hit its mark.

It was a demon. Good. The last thing she needed was more on her conscience. She rolled it over, and as it groaned in pain she yanked the knife out and brutally slit its throat, a look of satisfaction felt in more than just her face.

"Nice throw," one of the brutes to the side of her commented.

"Easy," she replied, not looking at him. "Let's go find something else." The four she was with that night had picked this particular demon to kill – though it certainly wasn't their first since the sun had gone down – for reasons unknown to her. She was well aware that she had to agree with anything they chose or risk outing herself. So even though she hadn't been sure that it was anything that deserved a good killing when they pointed it out to her, she had little choice in the matter. Besides, a little demon hunting never did anyone any harm. It was a fun job.

It still wasn't exactly clear to her how the group picked their victims; if they had any specific that they followed or if they just went out randomly every night to kill things (it seemed more likely the latter). She had only been part of it for the last few weeks or so. Thankfully she had yet to be faced with the situation of killing a human. As far as she knew.

"There," she said, nodding her head toward a man walking down the street. Her stomach tingled with excitement, mingling with something else that gave her a boost of vivacity. "Him."

"Think he's a vampire maybe," grunted one of the savages.

"I don't care what he is," she breathed in a low voice that came from the back of her throat. She moved forward silently and quickly, the others following.

She felt the adrenaline pumping through her, her heart beating an impossible and erratic rhythm, feeling it in her head and various other parts of her body, anticipation radiating from her core. Each time her feet hit the ground it seemed to multiply. She swiftly moved up behind the man, grabbed him and had him in the nearby alleyway before he could even react. The knife went in clean and smooth through his abdomen, once, twice, and then there was a stake in his chest and ashes at her feet.

She had known he was a vampire. She could tell from the moment she saw him, she sensed it. She used the knife just for kicks. He was a vampire. He was. There had been an unexpected extra burst of something this time, something deep down within her, something she couldn't identify; she had really wanted to kill, to kill some_one_. She knew that much. A tiny little piece of her buried far into the back of her subconscious momentarily entertained the thought that she might have killed him even if he hadn't been a vampire.

"_I did a lot of bad things, B. Don't forget it."_

She paused to clear her head. Maybe it was time she stopped being a fake wannabe of this group.

She was shaken from her spiraling thoughts by one of the demons. They had already found another target. This night was a full one.

This was definitely a human; there was no mistaking it. He was young, probably Faith's age, and entirely harmless looking. She could practically smell the innocence coming off of him. He had chosen the wrong night to be out taking a walk. Faith instantly felt a wave of familiar guilt and fear spreading thickly and rapidly through her like a toxin. Concoctions of her own internal strife began welling up inside of her as they advanced further in his direction.

"We got this one," one of the thugs growled to her gruffly, and they all walked past her toward the young man.

She slowed in her movements, uncertain of what to do. She felt as though she was walking through mud, and everything around her was playing out in slow motion. This time she _knew. _She _knew _he was an innocent, he was a human, and she couldn't just stand by and watch this happen. There was no excuse this time; there was no hiding behind a mistake or a wrong judgment made in fleeting seconds. But there was something in her – deeper, stronger, more primal, that kept her walking closer silently, betraying the man before he would ever know he was being betrayed. Her head swirled. She saw him, the image of his content figure seared into her mind, completely and blissfully unaware of what was to come – and when she blinked he was on the ground, stricken by something, a shout that died in his throat as the four villains mercilessly began to torment him. Faith stood, frozen, her powerful inner struggle rendering her incapable of action. She watched, paralyzed, as the life slowly drained out of him, as his efforts became weaker, slower… She watched the blood pooling into the cracks of the sidewalk, staining the cement, leaking underneath his attackers' shoes. He was gone before she could have made any vain attempt to save him, before she could have screamed to him how terribly and tragically sorry she was, and they kicked his limp body into a shadowed alley.

And then they laughed.

Cold, unfeeling, wicked laughter that filled her ears, her mind, rushing in and crushing down any part of her that may have begun to awaken after years of sleep. This, this horrific scene before her, brought home with astounding clarity the reason she had left this all behind her with a heavy, hard punch to her heart, stealing its way into her soul and bringing back up her sensibility and probity. Her morality. It was more than she could stand.

"_I'm not a white hat yet."  
"Yes you are."_

They stalked off, waving for her to follow. Thankfully they had not taken the time in their sickening glee to look back at her, else they would have known right then and there the truth – and just how deep her hatred could go. She found herself now with the strength she should have had earlier to slowly move toward the young man in the alley, looking down at his inert body, into his lifeless eyes. What did he leave behind? Was there someone waiting for him that he was taken from, in a brief moment of inhuman cruelty he never saw coming? What would change in the world tomorrow because of his absence? The image of a man who wasn't supposed to die, slumped against a dumpster with a stake in his chest; eyes open and surprised, blood on her hands… She was hit so viciously, so powerfully, the pain and guilt and emotion so prevalent in her eyes that had anyone looked at her they would have thought the end of the world was coming.

"_Faith… I forgive you."_

Then she walked away.

* * *

She took on the silence of the night, blending with its darkness and shadows and making no sound as her booted feet moved elegantly and effortlessly across the rooftop. The moonlight glistened off her dark hair and eyes, so that she appeared unearthly; appeared as something you may not want to cross in the hours before and after midnight. She stopped dead at the very corner of the building where cement met sky, where any normal person would have gone flying off. She fastened her eyes below at the entrance to the building across the alley. Could there be a better rush?

"I love doing this," she breathed with a smirk before disappearing downward. Had anyone been watching, it would have appeared as though she had vanished out of existence in the blink of an eye.

Some were robed, some wore street clothes. They were all standing in a large space, an old amphitheater, the once magnificent but now dingy and forgotten chandelier hanging perilously above them. They were restless, waiting for something. As the vampire slayer smoothly entered without a sound, clad in black, the only looks sent in her direction were those of craving. Her eyes glittered as she looked about, taking in her surroundings. She had been here before, several times, at gatherings such as this; all intentions focused solely on eventually dismantling them. She had lost count of how many times she had come; there seemed almost an urge within her to keep returning that she never paid much thought to.

Eventually the whispering and shuffling died down as a familiar man in a suit and tie appeared up on the stage. Her eyes locked onto him.

"Greetings." Though he was not talking loudly at all, his voice could be heard throughout the room. "As I'm sure you are all aware, tonight is a very special night. We have a guest." He smiled wickedly and everyone in the room snickered quietly, obviously excited. "But before we get to that, I must say a few words.

"We all know why we're here. We know there's something missing, something to fill in… Something we can't find anywhere else."

Faith zoned out. She did not care about nor want to hear what he had to say, especially this night. She was focused to the point of obsession, one solid plan firmly wrapped around the inside of her mind. These – _things_ – around her were unworthy even to be breathing the air of this clogged city, if they breathed at all. Why did evil always band together in large, asinine, mindless groups? They couldn't hack it on their own? She inwardly scoffed. She was fairing just fine. But then again, they were scum without brains. Or hearts. Or souls. And they were stupid. They lacked what it took to be able to fend for themselves, to be strong enough on their own to overcome and succeed over anything. They were pathetic.

The crowd erupted, bringing Faith's attention back. She cut her eyes at the people – demons – around her, her face unreadable.

From nowhere at once there was a table being squeakily wheeled out into the crowd, cutting its way through to the center, right where she was standing. She backed out of the way inconspicuously. On the table, copiously strapped down, was a man who could have been the gentlest, most serene person in another life; but here he was morphed into something petrified and completely helpless, his agonizing eyes darting all across the sea of cheering and sneering faces surrounding him. All around her things were blurred, sounds were melding, and she could feel her blood pounding furiously.

And suddenly the man's eyes were locked onto Faith's; and she saw – she _felt – _all the fear, terror and animalistic desperation inside of him, and something stirred within her. She couldn't bring herself to look away, something was holding her there; and she knew immediately that her cover was blown. The blood stopped pounding, everything came back into sharp focus as if she had just landed harshly on her feet from a 100-foot fall; the spell was broken. Her breathing was coming out ragged.

"_Help me!"_ he screamed at her, anguish and despair in his petrified voice. It sounded more horrible than the voracity and wickedness of the beings around her. She moved back quickly, in case anyone had caught that he was screaming at her. But they just laughed, a sound that cut through her even worse. "_PLEASE!!"_

_Not again... Not again..._

She couldn't take it. If she helped him he would die anyway, and so would she. There were too many in here to out herself right in front of them; even she was aware of that fact. She moved further back. The man in the suit emerged from the crowd, a look of immense pleasure on his face. The crowd was going wild.

"Our guest!" he shouted above the roaring den of voices, arms raised. His voice boomed. He held a very intricate, large blade in one of his hands. "My people! This sacrifice will ensure our success!" He looked down at the man, who was now in a terrified frenzy trying to escape, screaming even louder and more horrific than before, stabbing invisible wounds into Faith's ears.

"_PLEASE HELP ME! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! PLEASE!!"_ The suited man raised the blade high as the crowd shouted and cheered him on, working themselves into a tumult. Faith locked eyes with the pleading man once more, and then slipped quickly out of sight. "_**PLEASE!!"**_

Ten figures in the back of the crowd went missing in about fourteen seconds as Faith moved stealthily and swiftly, rage burning inside of her. She could hardly keep up with herself. Breathe, stab, step, breathe, slit, step… Twenty seconds later ten more were gone. It wasn't until someone happened to look over and catch one falling, their remains melting into nothing, that anyone noticed.

There was a loud shout. "HEY!" Everyone turned to the origin of the voice. "_Someone in here is a rat!"_ Even as he spoke more were dropping from sight, though now the cacophony had given way to dead silence – save for the whimpers coming from the middle of the mass – and one of them fell sickly hard onto the concrete floor before disappearing. All the bodies in the room turned toward the sound, and as Faith slunk away, a hand reached out and stopped her abruptly.

"Found you," said the woman amusedly, a hood over her head. Faith quickly snapped her arm and had her dead on the floor, but it was impossible she could go unnoticed now. All eyes were on her. It was not nearly so daunting, however, now that she had taken care of over half the crowd.

She smirked, though no one saw in the dim light. "Easy."

They all descended upon her at once. She was knocking three out at a time, throwing, stabbing, kicking, anything she could do to lessen the amount coming at her. Nothing could hurt her; no blows or throws to any part of her even registered. Her energy was unstoppable and unmatchable. The exhilaration was practically pouring from her, and nothing could bring her down.

Two came running at her. She jumped up, kicking both hard in the face and coming down with her knife to slice them through. They fell, disintegrating into the air. The numbers were dwindling. Some she had only roughed up and were coming back for more. She continued, feeling somewhat displaced fury building in her core, not entirely sure where it was coming from. She despised this group of disgusting vermin, but the white-hot anger that was blurring her vision was seeping from somewhere else.

And then there was real, palpable white-hot heat scorching her stomach… A familiar pain... She was falling, looking up at a horrified face plastered against the night sky... No, she was in an abandoned building surrounded by monsters. She looked down in disbelief. Where there once was a bleeding wound, there was now a matching one, new and raw. She had been stabbed in the same fucking spot. A darkened image of a rooftop and painful eyes flashed before her, and her heart clenched violently. She looked up at the hooded figure pulling the sword back, her blood glistening metallic on the blade.

She made a quick decision and bolted. There was no way she could take them all now, and she had to get away. Fast.

She made her way as quickly as she could manage in the direction of the healer she knew was somewhere in the city. She could hear the group of them behind her, chasing her, shouting, threatening, as she turned as many corners and went down as many alleys as she could to try and lose them, all the while the pain in her abdomen steadily and painfully growing.

"_I can't be that person."  
_"_How do you know?"_

She flinched on the inside as well as the outside. She could feel blood running down and seeping into the rest of her clothing, staining her hand as she kept it firmly pressed against her wound. _It's gonna take more than that to kill me, _she thought fiercely, looking around and gathering her bearings. She was close. She grit her teeth and kept her focus as well as she could on identifying where she was going, how much blood she was losing, if she was still being followed – and tried with everything she had left to ignore the intense pain coursing through her body, and the rest of her.

"_Things could be different for us now."  
_"_You think so?"  
_"_Yeah. Maybe we can help each other become…un-broke."_

This had to be the place – she remembered being told of the blinking sign nearby. She nearly dragged herself to the door, banging on it desperately. Her head began to spin as she faintly heard someone on the other side.

_She touched her arm. "You know it means a lot, right?"  
_"…_What?"  
_"_Everything you do."_

She collapsed into darkness.


	6. Chapter Five

**Author's Note: **_Please_ review. I'll give you a cookie. (Many bowing thanks to kool-aidrocks2008 for always reviewing. Keeps me sane).

**Somewhere  
****July 2005**

If Buffy Summers had hired the most expensive landscapers in the country to toil for an entire year they could not have even touched the incredible and impossible beauty that constituted the sun-drenched, lavish garden she was currently walking through. She was certain she had never seen such an array of colors in one place in her entire life; and she definitely did not think there were that many different types of flowers, of _bushes._ The garden was massive; she couldn't see where any of the abundant amounts of flora and greenery and perfectly cut stone walkways ended. This place gave the term "awe-inspiring" a totally new definition. She momentarily wondered if she was being offered a glimpse of heaven. It was breathtaking.

She silently seemed to glide along the pathway she was currently on, winding through endless sunflowers and dahlias and orchids, some of which appeared to touch the sky, which was the purest shade of blue. For some unknown reason she almost felt the urge to cry, which confused her, but the thought did not stay.

A brilliantly red butterfly floated by her, flapping its magnificent little wings in earnest, and she watched as it fluttered in circles before perching on some type of flower she had never seen before, down near the ground. She crouched down, intrigued more than she may have been in reality, wherever that was - she didn't even know where this was.

The butterfly, now holding all of Buffy's attention, moved its wings subtly, holding its position for moments that seemed to elongate into forever, or nothing – Buffy felt there really was no time here – and then took off, so fast she nearly snapped her neck in her haste to follow where it went. It had disappeared so quickly that she almost wondered, just for a split second, if it had even been there at all. Still crouching, she looked back down at the plant it had occupied.

A very real, very cold mix of dread and alarm washed over her – in a way that seemed completely unnecessary – as she gasped quietly, startled.

A vivid drop of deep crimson blood on one of the leaves, standing out crisply against the lively green. As she stared fixated at the spot, it began to roll toward the edge of the leaf, agonizingly slow, eventually falling off the side and splashing down to the stone below – but somehow, there was more. A very thin, but very much _there _stream of blood, as if something was bleeding onto the plant.

And so naturally she looked up – and jumped backwards in shock, her voice strangled in her throat.

The dark-haired woman was completely out of place in the garden, this Garden of Eden, this sanctuary that Buffy had found. It was _hers. _Why was she here? Buffy had barely gotten a taste and it was already ruined. She felt something growing inside her. And then something else struck her as she actually _looked _at the figure before her.

Her heart was hammering so hard she felt that any minute she might really see it rip a hole through her shirt and squish down onto the stone.

She was hunched over, almost like an animal, both arms wrapped around her middle and clutching it as if she would break in half if she let go. She contrasted violently with the brightness and color around her, appearing almost as something pulled straight from a horror movie. Buffy saw the blood, the darkest she had ever seen, spilling over between her arms and any other cracks it could, seeping effortlessly and rapidly out from the woman's stomach – as if she were being drained, as if all the blood inside her body was flowing out of her, taking her life force with it. It was almost horrific, the way Buffy could not even see her face or her eyes, just the dark hair that covered it; could only hear the frightening sounds she was making that she had never heard before. The blood was quietly gushing, spattering onto the stone walkway and slowly spreading in her direction. Buffy's eyes were wide, fixed on the spot; she couldn't even blink, let alone so much as try to move away. She was paralyzed, gripped by fear and bewilderment at this sudden tragic corruption of her perfect world. Something inside her seized.

* * *

Buffy breathed raggedly as she clutched the sheets around her, sitting in what could have easily been a kiddie-size swimming pool of her own sweat. She didn't appreciate cryptic weird dreams; they always started out nice and peacefully and then _wham! _Big scary something that she was supposed to interpret and deal with, all the while being scared out of her mind and confused to no end. Why did _she_ have to be in 50 percent of them, anyway? Dreams were difficult enough to deal with in Buffy's world without extra complication.

And after that she certainly wasn't going back to sleep.

* * *

She walked through the cemetery, distracted and on complete auto-pilot; the only thing she registered was that it was damn hot out, especially for it being three in the morning. It was doing nothing for her current state of mind or body. After tossing around for what seemed like hours and then laying stone still hoping that maybe sleep would just hit her while she was unaware, she had realized there was no way she was falling back into dreamland. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, considering what seemed to always await her there.

She wondered why she seemed incapable of having nice, fluffy dreams that meant absolutely nothing, that were just psychological waste formatted by the brain to fit some kind of absurd storyline until you woke up, like the experts said. Instead it was like some big cosmic comedian letting her know she could never have the nice normality that other 25-year-olds had the pleasure of experiencing, all the while laughing in her face.

Yellow eyes invaded her line of vision and she tore herself away from her reverie to concentrate on the snarling demon in front of her, glad to have something else to focus on. He was a particularly ugly one, and she relished punching his face into a pulp as she pushed him backwards with her lunges. Something white-hot was building in her core, and she attributed it to the adrenaline kick. She unleashed her frustrations and confusion onto the creature, finding herself attacking him with more fury than a normal person may have thought necessary, had a bystander been watching. At least she could say one thing; when she needed to get something out, she could go actually beat up a body rather than a punching bag. It was much more satisfying.

She whipped her arm back, making contact with his face and knocking him sideways, then grabbed his leg and flipped him over. He quickly rolled away, behind a large tombstone; as she stalked toward him, a sword suddenly came ferociously swinging out and practically beheaded her. She jumped back, looking for something to fight with, but there was nothing she could find in the five seconds before she had to duck and roll to avoid becoming mincemeat. She came up behind him, giving a few good punches to his head, and tried to grab the weapon from him. His grip was strong, and he knocked her away.

"Seriously, what could you be doing at this time of the morning?" she asked him, moving quickly out of the way of another sword swipe. "Doesn't – anyone – _sleep – _any – more?" She accentuated her words with harsh blows to his face and abdomen, her expression twisted into an angry mask.

She almost missed seeing his sword flying straight for her stomach, and in what felt like slow motion she stepped out of the way at the very last second, the gleaming blade tearing the fabric of her shirt.

She looked down at the rip, then back up at him. "I _liked _this shirt." She then proceeded to shove him backwards so brutally that he fell, hard, onto his back; in the second as he was dropping she yanked the sword from his hand, and without a second's hesitation mercilessly drove it down through his chest. He promptly evaporated.

She blew some hair out of her eyes and admired her trophy, shrugging.

"Always handy to have a sword."

She briefly and unconsciously touched her stomach, and then walked away.


	7. Chapter Six

**Europe  
****September 2005**

Faith could feel the wind coming up over the side of the building on her back, reminding her that she was a steadily moving object that was traversing closer and closer to the edge, over which there was only gravity to pull her down through space. She shoved the large, thick demon back with all her might, throwing him a few yards and giving him a solid kick in the jaw; but he was right back up and coming at her again, and she had to swiftly duck to avoid the sword that came flying at her head. Once closer to the gravel, she swung her leg out to knock him over, and he fell with a hard thud. He was back up before she could make any other move, and she was again reduced to dodging and avoiding his wild swings.

After what felt like the hundredth time of ducking down, she sprang up suddenly and used all her force to throw him backwards in one thrust from both her hands, sending him flying. As he got up and she advanced on him, she could immediately see that he was not happy. A horrible grimace marred his face as he stood tall and came toward her, and before she could react he had hefted his giant fist up underneath her chin, and she was sailling back towards the edge again. She hit the ground hard, feeling pain radiate through her back, and she grit her teeth and popped swiftly up, swinging viciously at his face.

"You – mother – fucker – " She was once more being pushed back in the heat of the fight, and more than slightly annoyed.

Her anger spilling over, her face contorted in rage and she began pummeling him with anything she could; fists, feet, an iron pipe that she wrenched out of something - she didn't care what - and her attacker was momentarily stunned. But it wasn't enough.

She felt him grab her forcibly, and the next thing she knew her feet were no longer in contact with anything; she could see the tops of buildings and fire escapes flying swiftly up as she went down, everything in her view blurred as she rushed toward the ground. A doubly healed over scar on her midsection began burning with something she had never felt before. _God damn these fucking roofs._

_They were sitting atop the hill that nestled itself around the Hollywood sign.  
_"_So this is what it feels like, huh? On top of the world?"  
__She smiled slightly. "Not exactly."_

"_Sometimes I wish I could fly. Go wherever I wanted, you know? No one could catch me. I'd be free." I wish I could fly away from all the shit we put inside us._

_Falling is faster than flying._

* * *

The first thing she registered was that she was alive. Okay so far. Not like this hadn't happened before. She could deal… Though she really was growing exceedingly tired of rooftops. After clearing the haziness from her mind, she blinked her eyes a few times and brought herself back to reality. She took in her surroundings warily, sliding up to a sitting position on the dark couch beneath her.

She was in an apartment, sparsely filled but decently-sized from what she could see. Her only light source was a few scattered lamps; outside the window she could see that it was still nighttime, so she hadn't been unconscious for long. She stretched out her limbs, checking herself for any serious wounds, but there were none besides those from the battle on the roof, and they were already healing. Fucking Grohlds were relentless. She hated demons. She took a deep breath, then pushed off the blanket that had been over her. At least whoever took her in didn't take off her clothes to 'make her more comfortable' or any bullshit like that.

She slowly stood, looking around, the Slayer in her fully expecting someone to jump out from the shadows and try to kill her again. She figured she would never be able to relax. But this was life. Maybe some nice humbly old woman had decided it was her night to be a good samaritan. Faith was fully aware of herself. Whoever had picked her up definitely had the better chance of being on the male spectrum.

She walked leisurely around the living room, looking out the large windows to try and get a feel of where she might be. But she didn't know this city that well, and so she saw just what she expected to see. She was near some more buildings and dumpsters. Ah well. As long as she was in here she might as well take the opportunity to explore.

She fiddled with some little round thing on the table in front of her, then checked out the TV. It was a massive flat screen. There were a few pictures hanging on the walls that she couldn't make out, and the furniture was all very dark, much of it what appeared to be leather. Most of the things in the room looked new, or at least nice. There were a few bookshelves along the furthest wall, some with weird statues on the top. She couldn't make out any of the titles.

"You're up," a surprised - and yes, distinctly male - voice said from across the room, behind her. She spun around.

A casually dressed young man had appeared from somewhere else in the apartment with a washcloth in his hand. If Faith had guessed his age she would put him close to hers. He had a sort of lopsided smile as he spoke. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah…" She made it a rule – as she should – to be hesitant of anyone, whether they had scales or not. Especially if they took her in for no reason. That was the way the world - her world - worked. "Five by five."

He gave a small, amused laugh. "Interesting lingo. Can I use it some time?"

Her tone and face were casual, but her eyes were covertly looking him over and paying close attention as he moved and spoke for anything that might be amiss or awry. "Sorry, I got dibs."

"All right, so…" He put the washcloth down on the table. "How do you like the place?" He gestured around with his hands.

She shrugged. "Well I don't know, haven't really gotten to see much of it yet. Just woke up." She gave a grin that didn't go past her mouth.

"You sure you're okay? No bloody battle wounds that I overlooked or anything?" He sounded genuinely concerned for her well-being; almost completely non-creepy. If Faith had met him under other circumstances, she might have even written him off as a gentle dork.

"Yeah, I'm cool. Don't worry about it." She paused, remembering she still had no idea who this man was, or how exactly she came to be in his apartment. "So who are you?"

"Oh, right," he said, seeming to have forgotten normal people introduced themselves. "I'm Dean." He smiled. "You don't - have to tell me your name, if you don't want to, I mean I get the whole keep-your-identity-a-secret-fight-evil thing." Faith was briefly reminded of Superman.

Her posture noticeably stiffened and she gave him a piercing look, crossing her arms. "And why would you say that?" The less he knew, the better; and she had no idea how much he knew already.

His face and voice quickly revealed how intimidated he suddenly was. "Well - I mean, I saw you up on the roof when I was walking outside - well, I _heard _you, fighting and everything, and I wanted to know what was going on, but I was too caught up in waiting to see if I could catch a glimpse of anything to go up to the roof. So – I waited - I don't really know for what - and then - when you fell, I saw what you were fighting and… I caught you." He paused. "Or at least tried to. We both ended up kind of smushed on the ground." He laughed lightly. "The thing looked down at us for a few seconds and then disappeared."

"What did you see?" she asked evasively, probing for just how much information he might have. She still didn't know who he was; all she had was a name. She didn't want any repercusions because some kid saw a scary monster and saved what he probably thought was some kind of damsel, in his own way. And, if he couldn't be trusted, she didn't want him knowing anything about her.

"Um… Well it definitely didn't look like any human I've ever seen. And when you were fighting it didn't sound like one either. But I couldn't really tell exactly what it was. You were kind of high up."

Her tone evidenced her obvious doubt and suspicion. "...And you still managed to catch me?"

Uneasiness crossed his features momentarily and then disappeared. He grinned timidly. "Well - I did mention that we both got slammed into the ground. I just kind of...broke your fall with my body."

She waited a long moment before answering, unsure of whether to believe him or not. Sure, there were people who would readily accept that there were superhumans and demons and vampires in the world, that magic was real, and that it was all hiding in plain sight right under everyone's nose - but she just didn't think she was that lucky to have found one of those people. You didn't just stumble across them every day. "And it didn't freak you out? Seeing something like that up on the roof in the middle of the city at night?" More of a dry statement than a question.

"Well…research is kind of what I do. You know, supernatural stuff. Been doing it for years. I got really caught up in it after watching a buddy of mine, um….have some bad luck with a demon." He paused for a few seconds. "I've seen a lot of things - though I'm guessing not as much as you."

She cocked an eyebrow. "You'd guess right." Maybe he was telling the truth. How would she know? Though he certainly was not shocked or stunned by the events that had apparently taken place, and that counted for something. Obviously there was some reason he wasn't treating her like some strange sort of supergod or running away frightened for his life.

"Also... I've seen you before, so, you know, I knew you were taking care of the thing, but...you probably don't remember me."

Faith looked hard at his face, scrutinizing him, trying to bring to memory where she could have crossed paths with him before. Had she really? There was something in his eyes that was playing tricks with her.

"I think that with all the research I've done, and what I have access to, I could help you," he continued.

_I could help you. _Her mind flashed back to a dark alley, rescuing a young man from a demon, refusing his help when he called after her. She had written him off, like she had with so many others – but now? The guy did save her life, after all - though she knew she would've survived the fall. He couldn't be _that _bad. Maybe he could be useful. Like a big walking encyclopedia of information. She was briefly reminded of Buffy Summers and the people she had who had always taken care of researching and finding, while she did the dirty work. It worked for her. It could work for Faith. She liked getting her hands dirty; someone else could take the time to sit in front of a computer or a book or hunt down some scrap of parchment that was 1,000 years old and important to saving the world. And maybe this was a sign, having met him again. He seemed like a nice enough kid; like the kind that grows on you after a while. And, if it came to it - if he wasn't as useful as he claimed to be or he was some freak evil thing, she could always toss him back out - or get rid of him.

If she wanted to be truthful with herself - which she rarely did - she was getting kind of tired of being alone.

_I always did do best on my own…most of the time._


	8. Chapter Seven

_**Somewhere in the West  
**__**May 2003**_

_What do we do now?_

_Well?_

_Driving away from that pit of ruins after staring at it for what felt like an eternity seemed like a plausible solution. There was nothing left for them there; only an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, finality and the knowledge that this was only another beginning._

_Somehow the school bus was oddly comforting; it served as a small reminder of the town – home to some – and of one of the few somewhat normal things they had experienced. Buffy almost felt like she might never get rid of it, should she come to stay in one place._

_They had been driving for hours. While the warm sunlight beat down on the yellow vehicle, the feeling inside was quite mixed._

_There were the ones who were noticeably shut off, as if someone had flipped a switch and had the life taken right from them. Xander, staring out the window at nothing, blinking robotically every few seconds. A few of the girls, who were either copies of him or huddled, not moving or talking much or still nursing wounds._

_There were those who were trying to go on as though nothing had happened – or something had happened that they would never be ready to deal with._

_"I could really go for a milkshake right now," Andrew said, looking out the window. _

_"No way, soda totally trumps milkshake," said one of the girls who wasn't bleeding or broken in the seat behind him._

_"Um, _b-lah_," he said, turning to look at her. "So not. You obviously have no knowledge of what goodness a milkshake can bring. Ow." He had been pelted with something._

_"I could use some goodness right now," Faith half muttered, half sighed in her seat as she turned from the pathetic conversation to look out at the passing scenery without actually seeing it._

_Faith was in a category all her own._

_Mostly because there was a proverbial swirling vortex within her, one that she couldn't turn off or escape or shut out. Worse than the Hellmouth as it caved in upon itself, worse than seeing Buffy bleeding on the ground; because it was inside her, and she couldn't get rid of it. _

_As bushes and desert flew by outside, she thought about what was next. What had happened; what could happen in the future. Was she prepared? Sure, she was a Slayer – along with thousands of others now – and she was physically strong, but what about the rest of her? She had been in a prison cell barely a month ago, for things that still hadn't left her mind three years later. Things that never would. And she had planned on staying there, until Angel in all his glory decided to let his worser half come out to play, and Wesley came to her for another mission to save the world; it vaguely reminded her of when she was called upon in her dingy motel room any time she was thought to be useful. At least when she was on the other side she was getting more attention. But hey, she was a big girl, she could handle it – so what if Buffy had only looked at or spoken to her when it was necessary since she had come back? She _had _been gone for three years; out of sight and out of mind. And she had hurt Buffy. A lot. More than anyone else. At least now she wasn't just "the other Slayer" living in big B's shadow, though; now she was one of the originals, one who went through it all by herself just like Buffy – not like all the newbies who had been called. _

_What if she hadn't left? Would it have mattered? If she hadn't just jumped when Wesley asked her to, if she had stayed on her clear-cut path back to redemption – or whatever the hell she could call it? Would it have altered the way things had gone; would it have changed anything? Had she made any difference, or was she just there for back-up, a safety net that was never really actually _needed? _When was the last time she had felt needed? The only instance she could think of was the small amount of time after Willow had spoken those words, those words she could've killed again to hear… "Buffy needs you." And she had selfishly, stupidly thought that Buffy _had _needed her, that Buffy couldn't have done it without her. That maybe Buffy needed her for all different types of reasons._

_She could remember the look on her face, standing on the porch of her house all alone, with that tear on her cheek. When she finally turned around and looked at her, told her to take the lead – one of the things Faith had been wanting deep inside almost since the first moment she met her. And she had done nothing. She had just walked back inside. She could have done so much more. It was probably one of the most powerful moments the two of them had ever shared, and it had been…wasted. That was the only word that fit._

_And then when the First broke her down, saw straight through her – because she had never been that difficult to figure out. At least on the surface; at least to anyone who really didn't care. Robin had been her release, and he offered her something she had never seen before. But he wasn't what she wanted. He could never be._

_"I think everyone could," said a familiar voice – and the last one she had been expecting – from directly beside her._

_"Huh?" Confused brown eyes met deep green._

_"Use some goodness."_

_Faith momentarily closed her eyes and shook her head, clearing it of her thoughts that were too much for her anyway. "Oh. Right." She paused, regaining her composure. "So what's up, B? I'm sure there are a lot more interesting people on this bus than me." She gave a small smile that didn't reach her eyes._

_Buffy looked towards the ceiling. "Well, there are, but I've talked to all of them already. We've been on the road for so long that I literally cannot feel my butt anymore."_

_Faith laughed, looking away. "Yeah, the scenery kinda looks like someone threw water onto a painting at this point." _

_There was an uncomfortable silence._

_"So, uh…… Spike's…?" It was the first thing Faith could think of to say that wouldn't end badly._

_Buffy looked down at the floor, the look in her eyes changing and filling with something different. "Gone." She looked back up at Faith. "He saved the world."_

_"We saved the world," Faith said. "He played a big part." Her eyes lowered. "Don't think I could've ever done that."_

_Buffy shrugged, looking ahead at nothing. "Well, he's been alive for like 250 years, and probably wasn't that nostalgic about most of it." _

_Another discomforted pause, and then slumping down and putting her foot up on the seat in front of them Faith said, "So, you think I'm still wanted or has the law forgotten about me by now?"_

_"I don't know. I'm sure Sunnydale made bigger news than you."_

_"That's okay, I'm fine not bein' wanted. Sorta used to it, actually." She mentally slapped herself. She had to learn how to reel in the bitterness._

_But she didn't get the reaction she had been expecting. "Well, you never know. Things could change." Buffy, still looking ahead, smiled, and it was genuine._


	9. Chapter Eight

**Europe  
****May 2006**

She could recall one particular night, months ago, Dean at her side walking through the moonlit part of a cemetery and relishing that for once there were no ghouls or goblins of the night seeking her out; one of the rare times they had had a conversation about her.

After the usual mindless banter and chatter, Dean had mustered up the courage to ask the question she was sure anyone would be curious to have answered; "So what was your life like before you left?" The only thing Faith had really let him know up to that point was that she had left and gone out on her own; she wasn't much for letting everyone know about her past, had she even been able to. "I mean, did you have friends, did you go to school, did you do stuff in the daytime?" He laughed.

By that time he had grown on her enough that she didn't resent him for bringing up questions or being interested in her life before. She was mysterious, after all - that was the way she liked it. But she had grown as close as she was willing to get to him, and let some things slide should she be in just the right mood.

She looked up at the dark sky, her eyes shifting amongst the stars. "It's a little complicated."

"Oh come on, you can't just leave me hangin' like that! Were you a troublemaker? A saint?" She couldn't stop herself from laughing at the word. "Did you have a boyfriend? Did you go to jail?"

Her face clouded over, and her eyes darkened. Dean immediately realized he had said the wrong thing, and stopped bouncing around to look at her.

"Oh, Faith I'm sorry, I'm an idiot sometimes, don't listen to anything I say. How about unicorns? I like unicorns. Yeah, when I was a kid I always wanted one so I could ride around and spear people with the point, but mine would be black, not pink like those prissy princess ones, and I'd name it Lightning Bolt, and it would - "

"D," she interrupted him. "It's okay." There was a long pause – so long, in fact, that Dean was about to say something - but then she spoke. "I didn't really fit in with the group I hung out with where I came from. They…were already a group when I came on the scene. School wasn't my thing. And to answer your stereotypes, I was a troublemaker. In the bad way." She paused again. "The way that got me locked up."

"Oh…" he breathed, unsure of what to say. His voice was quiet and hesitant; almost fearful. "Is that why you left?"

Her face became unreadable, though there was strong sentiment in her eyes that couldn't be lost on anyone who looked. She took a while before answering, gathering her thoughts and forcing most of her emotion back.

"There were a lot of factors. Basically, I just wanted to go it alone for a while. Sorta redeem myself, in a way that I couldn't do behind bars. I did a lot of bad things."

"_There's nothing I can get from this place." Except away from it. "I'm gonna try my luck in the big bad world for a while."_

"That's all?" he asked, pushing.

"_You did what you were brought to do, that's it, you're done. What more use do you have?"_

"Yeah. That's it." Her eyes were no longer even focused; she was just walking, just moving to do something. She had dredged up an entire wreckage of things she never wanted to think about again; and her mind couldn't stop itself from remembering when she had stumbled upon something she couldn't forget.

_You promised you wouldn't lie to me._

* * *

Faith was sitting by herself at the bar, staring into the glass in her hand, seeing but not seeing the welcoming amber liquid contained in the small clear walls. If she looked hard enough she could actually see pictures inside of it, though how that was possible she didn't know since it wasn't moving.

The stool beside her suddenly found itself occupied, though she paid absolutely no attention. Ten people so far had approached her that night and she had fallen into such a world of her own that she essentially did not even notice them anymore.

The stool beside her was talking. She didn't care. She was actually starting to imagine that it was the drink on the counter before her that was talking to her, which made it much more enjoyable to pay attention to.

But the stool ruined it by saying her name.

She looked up, her eyes cutting into the extremely aged man she saw before her. He had to be at least seventy. His hair was bleach white, as were his beard and moustache. His eyes were startlingly young, however. He did not look evil nor did he give her the vibes she usually got from any sort of scum. He had a very kind look in his round face, one she was not used to seeing.

"Who are you and what do you want?" she asked him bluntly, the fact that he knew her name slipping quickly from her mind in her slightly inebriated state.

He smiled sincerely. "I want to give you something."

"Hey, thanks pal, but I don't swing that way. You're a bit on the antique side, if you haven't noticed."

He laughed. "Always with the jokes. Tell me Faith, when was the last time you were serious with anyone?"

She got more defensive, her forehead creasing in the beginnings of anger. "Look, I don't know what you're playing at - "

"You have nothing to worry about, Faith. I'm not going to eat your soul, or rip out your heart, or kill your loved ones." He paused, looking away briefly as though thinking. "Well, that option may be void." Something raced through her eyes. "I am here simply to offer you help." She opened her mouth to say something, but he continued talking. "No, not like the kind of help Dean gives you. Though his research is commendable. This is something quite different, quite…deeper. I assure you that it is something only I can give you."

She still felt very uncertain, and it showed in her face. She unconsciously moved further from him. "And then when you do rip out my heart you can look back on this and laugh."

He gave another chuckle. "I could never rip out your heart, my dear, I doubt anyone could. It is far too strong."

It took her a moment to answer, her face unreadable. She found her voice, though it was faltering. She wasn't sure how to respond, and her current state did not help any. "Yeah, well, I'm not impressed by your little mind-reading tricks."

"I don't expect you to be. But just so you know, I'm not reading your mind. I can see all that I need to."

"Right." She turned to him. "Can you see what I'm going to do next?"

"Yes, I can." His eyes were still dancing with amusement. "Though I'm sure it's not what you're thinking."

She stared back down at her glass, unsure of what to do or how she even felt. So she said nothing. She didn't know why this man was here - the real reason - or why he was talking to her; and she didn't understand why, even though she wanted to resent him, she couldn't. She had been having a lovely time with her glass of solace until he had come along.

"You have immense strength within you, Faith. And not just the kind the Powers imbued you with. You have the power to change things. To do what's right. If it helps, I didn't choose you myself. You have to be the one who sees this. Because _you_ are the one who made the decision to do this, and you are the one who can make the decision to go back." She looked at him, emotion swirling in her eyes so great even he was momentarily stunned. He pulled something from nowhere. "You can take it, and use it if you wish. I will leave it with you. If you choose to take this opportunity, then eat this and you will see as I see. You'll know what to do." He slid a bag of what looked like marijuana over to her, though she knew it was something else. He took another item again from out of nowhere. "This is for you as well. It will keep you safe always as long as you wear it." It was a necklace, made from something she couldn't identify. It was beautiful.

"Good luck to you, Faith." He downed his shot and was gone.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Europe  
****May 2006**

Small starbursts had been spinning around the upper perimeter of the room, where wall met ceiling, for some time now; one suddenly came zinging down near her face, quickly arcing back up again and exploding into a firework that gave off a faint glowing outline of a face.

Faith shook her head, and the firework disappeared; only the firework. She didn't like that firework. Actually, she didn't like any of the fireworks. They all ended with that face.

She decided to test the window, which seemed coated on the trim with what appeared to be purple gelatin of some sort that moved along at its own pace, in a big rectangle around the glass. It sparkled here and there, and when she touched it – though she was actually a good six feet away – it felt cold and similar to jam. She tried to swipe some onto the wall, but only got a hazy color burn that faded quickly like the light spots the sun leaves on your eyes.

What had the old man said this was for? To let her see something? Er…. Something to do, wasn't that it? Important? Or…maybe not. She couldn't remember. She hoped it didn't have anything to do with those fireworks.

She grinned, looking toward the door as someone entered the room.

"Hey, D," she said, turning her attention back to whatever it was she was now wrapped up in. "I think I took acid or somethin', man. You wouldn't believe - "

But at that particular moment her head snapped back as her entire body seized, her eyes slamming shut. She shook violently, erratically, every part of her jerking and jolting.

Dean rushed to her side, having not the slightest idea what was happening. "Faith?" No response. Her head was twitching slightly, her breathing short and hard. "Faith?" he tried again.

After another several prolonged moments, when he had made up his mind to begin shaking her vigorously, her eyes snapped open and she flew back up to a sitting position so fast he fell off the side of the bed.

Her breathing was harsh and erratic. She held a hand to her chest, where her heart was. Dean looked up at her, still on the floor, unsure of whether or not he should speak. He made up his mind.

"…Faith?"

She didn't answer him, instead bolting up and heading to the bathroom; but as she left and he caught a look at her profile, he could swear her eyes were shining.

* * *

**Cleveland**

Buffy's fist was hanging perilously in the air two inches from the young girl's surprised face.

"You have to remember your weak spots. Always be aware of every part of your body and everything around it." Buffy lowered her fist. She was sparring with one of the Slayers who had just moved in a few weeks ago, and who still needed a lot of training. "You might have five different bad guys coming at you all at once. You have to be prepared for anything."

"Five at once?" the girl squeaked, clearly daunted by the idea.

Buffy nodded. "Five at once."

"Buffy?"

Buffy turned to see Dawn at the top of the stairs. "Willow's back."

"Keep practicing those moves I showed you, okay?" After the girl nodded, Buffy turned and followed after her sister.

The witch was sitting at the kitchen table, looking more or less like herself but more like she knew something that wouldn't spell a fairytale for anyone. Buffy sat down next to her.

"So? How was Europe? Did you see the Eiffel Tower?" God, did she love story time.

Her friend perked up somewhat. "Yep. It's just as fantastic as it looks in all the pictures. And – and I saw the Louvre, and the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and… Well basically all the tourist-y things, and a bunch of different cities." Then her face changed, falling from cheerful to conflicted. And uh…" She opened her mouth slightly to say something, then paused for a long moment. She seemed to change her mind and held it back, opting for something else. Buffy noticed all of this but said nothing. "Uh, then I met this psychic guy, might've been a witch too, and he told me some stuff that's – not so fun."

"Does it directly involve us? Because I _much_ prefer pawning this stuff off onto one of the other groups we have." Over a year ago they had branched off into several mini-organizations across the country, to handle the influx of new slayers and to broaden their reach.

Willow seemed hesitant, usually a bad sign. "Well, he said that, basically, your life is in danger…" She remembered something else. "Oh, and that you should be expecting a great change."

"Oh," Buffy said, her voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. "Great, what's new? I always love a little side of impending death with dinner." She paused. "Did he tell you anything else?"

"He said something about The Influence, or something like that, if I remember right."

Buffy sighed. She couldn't even catch a break when she was one of thousands. After so many years of barely escaping death, almost nothing surprised her anymore. She got a far-off look in her eyes as she stared out the window. "All right. Find out what you can. Let me know." She absentmindedly stood and gave her friend a hug. "Dinner in half an hour?"

"I sure hope so, I could eat a walrus. Not – that I ever would."

Buffy smiled, a rather fake smile if Willow had looked close enough. "I'll be there." She left the room, leaving the other woman uncertain. She moved through the house quietly, making sure no one saw or heard her. As she reached the back door, she slipped out unnoticed and headed off into the darkness.

* * *

"Faith?"

Dean had walked in on the slayer throwing clothes and other items into a bag very hurriedly, a look on her face that he couldn't quite place. He had never seen her this way before.

"I have to go. I have to get back to…" she shook her head slightly, as if she had forgotten what she was saying, or stopped herself. She seemed incredibly flustered.

"…Cleveland?" he supplied.

She glanced at him, distracted. "…Yeah."

"Why? Just all of a sudden out of nowhere? What's going on?" There was a tinge of annoyance in his voice that she heard immediately.

She cut her eyes at him. "Nothing, D. It's my own business, okay?" She threw the last of her belongings into the bag and slung it over her shoulder, turning to face him.

"Well, but… But what about me?" He sounded almost indignant.

"You'll be fine. Don't worry. I taught you how to handle yourself."

"Well, yeah, but… I mean, without you…" He paused, seeming to search for words. "Why did you say you suddenly have to go back, again?" He squinted his eyes at her in what looked a great deal like suspicion.

Her words were rushed. "I just have to, all right? Look, I'm sorry, I know this seems really strange to you, but just believe me when I tell you that I have to go. This is just who I am. You should know that by now. It's been a blast, really. Don't get into too much trouble, all right?" She hit him on the arm and headed toward the door.

There was a loud crackling sound that filled the room, catching the attention of both of them very quickly. A horned, gray and very ugly demon was standing in the middle of the room. He was wearing some sort of strange and brightly colored suit, and he had a white beard so pointed it could have been considered a weapon that reached his chest. Faith, at this point, had gone into battle mode and dropped her bag, ready to fight.

"You," he pointed at Dean, "are an ingrate. I never should've gone through all this hassle. Things are just so much easier when you do them yourself." And with that, he lifted his palm up, facing the young man, and a bright red light emanated shortly from it. Dean promptly vanished, screaming, into the air. There was no evidence of where he had just stood.

Faith stared in shock, still poised, but unsure whether to feel anger at Dean's death or anger at him for hiding something from her. The confusion from the demon's words set in, and she felt blank.

"As for you," he said, turning to her with an almost jovial expression on his wizened face, "I have a little surprise for you. You remember back, the _first _time you met Dean when you 'saved his life,' and dutifully refused his offer to help you and whatnot?" She tightened her fists, tensing up. "Well _that _was actually aplan plotted out by yours truly – and him – to get 'in' with you and make you hopefully trust him, though as you recall it didn't work out so well." He sounded as if he was excitedly explaining how something worked to a child. But she could sense the underlying fury. "_So, _then we waited around until you fell off a roof, which gave us the perfect setup to knock you out and make you think Dean saved you. Once we were in, we bided our time, waiting for the perfect moment to harness your powers and energy." He threw up his arms exaggeratedly. "However, since you've gone and thrown a wrench into everything by suddenly deciding you want to leave and go back home, I have had to step in, get rid of the idiot, and take care of it all now by myself." His smile was sardonic and bitter.

Faith, for her part, was more stunned than she had been in a very long while, trying so desperately not to let all the things this demon had just told her seep in, at least not now; or what the word "home" had prompted inside of her. Now she had a job to do. Kill him. She needed to focus on that. For her own sanity. "And how do you plan on doing that?" she asked, her eyes narrowed in hate.

"Well, you see, first I'm going to stun you, and then the plan was always that I would take you to – " He never finished the sentence, as Faith had pulled a large blade from the back of her pants and shoved it forcefully through the side of his skull before he had a chance.

She looked down at his crumpled body, uninterested in what he had been about to say. She had bigger things to worry about. "Nice try." He melted away into the carpet, leaving a stench. The blade remained, and she picked it up, wiping it on the bed and putting it back.

She didn't want to dwell on anything that had just occurred in the last five minutes; how somehow the one person she had somewhat managed to befriend and share lives with, out of all the other people in Europe, in all the time she had been there, even for a what small amount of time they had been working together, had been betraying her all along. It was the story of her life. What shit decisions she always seemed to make.

She knew she had been better off on her own.

She shook it off, quite literally. "Bastard," she muttered, before picking up her bag and hurrying from the room at an even faster pace than before.

---

Meanwhile, far away, a young woman left a dark area extremely unsatisfied.


	11. Chapter Ten

****

Cleveland, Ohio  
**May 2006**

Buffy hit the punching bag savagely, trying desperately to transfer everything she felt into it. She wasn't accomplishing much, except sore knuckles and a lot of sweat. The punching bag itself, well, it had probably come partially loose from the ceiling, but that went unnoticed by the small blonde who seemed determined to kill it.

_You should be expecting a big change._

She questioned why it unnerved her so much but could come up with no answer, as usual. She had been bothered for a long time now; she wasn't sure she had felt this conflicted since she was a teenager. And she was pretty certain that most of the time her anger and frustration came from not being able to figure herself out more than what she actually might be feeling. She remembered the way Willow's face looked, the way she had held back from saying something.

She paused for a moment, holding tightly to the bag and breathing heavily. Her face was bright red, surely from all the energy she had exerted, and her hair was sticking to her face.

"Ooo, sexy look, Buff," came Xander's voice from the stairs. "I think you could be a December for the Sweaty Girls Who Hit Stuff A Lot calendar."

She gave him a look. "That was lame."

He shrugged. "Yeah, well, it was off the top of my head. Anyway, the reason I came down is because Giles has some new info for us on the latest big adventure." His eyes widened and he gave a cheesy smile, feigning excitement.

"Great." Her tone was less than enthused – though she might have been more interested if she hadn't been trying to vent and gotten interrupted. "I'll be right up."

"Gotcha." He was about to leave, then added, "Oh, hey, you might wanna go easy on that poor thing. Looks like it's about to fall off the ceiling." Then he was gone.

Buffy looked over at the punching bag; he was right. _Damn. _What else could she beat mercilessly? Well, the wall seemed like a good idea; until she remembered it was cement and possibly holding the rest of the house up. _Maybe I'll just stuff my face._

* * *

"So, what's the up and up?" Buffy sat down in a plush chair with a cup of yogurt and a bagel, making herself comfortable and looking around at Giles, Willow, and Xander. "Should we all be running for our lives?" She smiled derisively.

"Well, according to the research we found, apparently this particular demon gets its jollies from – well, to put it bluntly, somehow getting good guys to go bad," Willow said.

"So it's a peer pressure demon. Well that's fun." It seemed like there was something for everyone these days.

"The demon takes great pleasure in making sure its victims are of the strongest physical and mental capabilities…eh, most of the time." Giles said. "That includes Slayers." He was quick to add, "But I'm sure we have nothing to worry about, you're all very strong-minded and strong-willed."

Buffy seemed absolutely unperturbed. "So does it just, like, talk to you and convince you to start wielding a pick axe? Seems too easy." She took a bite of her bagel.

"Well, it would most likely have to make several contacts with its intended target before it could hope to accomplish anything. Anyone…confident of their position on the side of good shouldn't be that easily persuaded. That's why it only goes after those it knows are……somewhat uncertain, or have the chance of being so anyway."

She nodded. "Right. Does it have a name?"

"It goes by several different names, most along the lines of influence, coercion, inner truth, and things of that nature. It's also a shapeshifter, though it only changes form in the instances of the utmost importance to it. When it – finds someone, or something, it deems important enough. And sometimes it will use other demons to do its dirty work."

"Does it have one particular skin it likes to hang out in most of the time?"

"Yes, actually; a woman, dark hair, probably appearing to be in her 20s or some other young age. Though I'm not certain if that's the demon's actual physical state or not."

Xander felt this was his time to interject. "Has anyone ever wondered why female demons always have to be like, mega-hot? Like, you never see any she-devils that are old and wrinkly and growing hair in funky places, you know?" He looked around, and when he saw no reaction, he hung his head in defeat. "Anyway…"

"Okay... So do we know how this equals my life possibly ending?" Buffy asked, ignoring her friend's comment.

"Not yet," Willow said, almost apologetically. "We didn't find anything in the research about it ever specifically setting out to kill its victims. There was something I came across about it getting really riled up if they won't switch sides, though."

"So… Do we think it's after me? Is that it? Because if so, she's gonna be pretty pissed off."

Giles scrunched up his face. "I don't see why it would come after you, that wouldn't make much sense. Especially now that there are thousands of Slayers the world 'round, there's plenty to choose from, and they could all very well be much less stable and strong than you are."

Buffy's features clouded, something burning in her eyes. It was gone within seconds, and she remained silent. As she looked at the others' faces, she was not extremely surprised to catch the same look before they too covered it up.

"So um… We'll try to figure out how this spells bad for Buffy and get back to you, 'kay?" Willow said, looking at her friend. The brief look that had passed over the Slayer's face had not gone unnoticed by her.

Buffy looked at her as if she was startled to see her there. "Oh… Yeah, great. Okay." She stood, grabbing her food distractedly. "Thanks, you guys." She left the room.

* * *

**Somewhere**

The young woman finished her drink and turned in her seat, surveying the bar. Her dark hair hung elegantly yet wild around her face, her gaze roaming across the room. Her glittering eyes caught movement outside the window, and a slight grin filtered through her features. Standing up, she grabbed her bag and walked to the exit with a swagger that brought more than a few stares from behind beer bottles and cigarettes.

A bearded man was sitting on his motorcycle outside the bar, preparing to leave. His vision was suddenly filled by a staggeringly beautiful woman, dressed in dark clothing that clung to her and standing alluringly in front of his bike looking down at him. She put her hands on the handlebars, leaning in casually with her body and bringing her face close to his. The scent of her wafted over him, her dark eyes and full lips captivating his attention.

"Hey there." Her voice was rich, the perfect tone to match her exterior. "How far are you going?"

"Canton."

"Mind if I tag along?" She gave him a playful smile, though her eyes still seemed to penetrate him.

He handed her his helmet without breaking eye contact. "Sweetheart, I don't mind at all."

She took it, looking him in the eye. "Thanks." She strutted to the back of the bike, opening one of the saddlebags and pushing her bag into it, then charismatically settled down behind the man. After putting on the helmet, she wrapped her arms around him as he started the bike and the pair left the parking lot, leaving a trail of dust in the air behind them.

* * *

**Cleveland**

_I've never seen the Great Wall of China, _Buffy thought, picking at her food and staring off at nothing. It did cross her mind as to why perhaps she was thinking this, and about traveling in general, and people who probably _had _seen the Great Wall of China and other places that were very far away; but this was all bundled into a secure and very full knot that passed quickly through her mind and found its way out again – or got buried, something Buffy found she was immensely skilled at doing. If she could just apply the skill to everything else she would be set. Although what one person viewed as a skill could also be a flaw that just ended up bringing about even more problems.

Was there something she was missing? Doubtful; if anything, she had too much and was trying to rid herself of some. Her pancakes, staring sadly up at her as maple syrup oozed from them, held no answers.

_You have to admit that it's sad when impending apocalypses don't do so much as give you a wrinkle, and yet when one sentence dregs up something you had buried suddenly it really is the end of the world. Stupid._

And it probably didn't even involve anything she thought it might; she was probably just a paranoid freak jumping at every possibility.

But everyone else had thought the same thing. She could tell when she looked at them; their shifting eyes, their discomfort, the few seconds of awkward silence. The same quick stream of consciousness had passed through the room, and they all knew it. But no one would say it.

"Ooo, pancakes," Willow's voice came at just the right moment from beside her as the other woman sat down at the counter. "You know I think I read somewhere once about a particular kind of demon who survives only on those."

Buffy smiled weakly and looked at her friend. "You want some?"

Willow looked at the food in thought, then went to the silverware drawer and returned with fork and knife in hand. She promptly cut off a chunk of Buffy's pancake and stuffed it into her mouth happily.

"Mmm, syrupy goodness," she said through her mouthful. Then her brow furrowed. "Why aren't you eating any?"

"Oh, uh… I was just caught up in my thoughts, that's all." She smiled and took a bite, if only to please the other woman.

"So what's new with the Buff?"

Buffy could think of several things she was not going to mention. "Not much. I – bought new curtains for my room." …_Lame._

"I love my curtains. They're bright and cheerful."

There followed a few moments of uncomfortable silence – uncomfortable for Buffy more than Willow. "So…" Buffy didn't want to ask the question in fear of the answer; and she wasn't even sure why. "Did you find anything else on the demon yet?"

Willow looked almost ashamed. "No. We've been trying for the last few days but I haven't found anything that would give a reason for your life to be in danger. I mean, the demon is supposed to get really testy if its target refuses to switch sides – but that would only be a threat to you if it was coming after you, and I highly doubt that, we all do. You're too strong, the demon knows it wouldn't have a chance." She took another chunk of pancake, almost as an afterthought.

A question that knotted Buffy's insides even more – "So then……why does it involve us? …Me?" Her voice got softer, trailing off into thought. She really did not want to entertain any of the possibilities bouncing around in her mind; but was she the only one? She spoke more to herself than to the witch next to her, not looking at anything in particular as she spoke. "It goes after people who aren't mentally strong enough… Who could be swayed…" There was a great pause, as though she was almost afraid to speak. "People like…"

Buffy looked up and caught the look in Willow's eyes, in her whole face, that she had seen the other day when she arrived home. Not to mention the vibe she had gotten when they were all in the study, all thinking the same thoughts and not giving voice to them. There was a bolt of understanding that quickly passed between the two of them. Willow knew something. Why couldn't she tell her?

"Will…" she started after a moment, but was stopped by Willow's sudden leap from her seat, almost as if she had been burned.

"You know, I'm gonna go – do some more research, see if I can't find anything else. Kay?" She was gone before Buffy could protest.

_God damn it. _Buffy stared down at her now half-eaten pancakes, feeling emptier than before. _What am I missing?_

Eventually she stood up, taking her plate and throwing the remains of her food away. She put the plate and silverware in the dishwasher and left the room. She needed to be alone. To think. She ascended the winding staircase, following the wide hallway down to her bedroom. Sighing, she opened the door.

She could have passed out.

"Hey, B. New curtains?"


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry to say that there won't be any updates for a little while; I'm going to be in Europe for 2 weeks. Hope you can contain yourselves till then!

* * *

"Do you have any good news for me?" She looked at her black nails, which were always immaculate no matter how many times she inspected them, her attention quickly fading as it usually did when she spoke with the insipient creatures she was forced to be in contact with. They reminded her of bugs, and practically looked the part.

"Nothing much." The lowly demon garnered a piercing look and quickly added, "Ma'am," with a grunt.

"Nothing at all?" She offered a brief inattentive glimpse in his direction and returned her focus to her nails. "My last peon was done away with quite swiftly, would you like to join him?" Her tone held absolutely no interest whatsoever, coming across as extremely bored, yet fear was still practically rolling from the cowering demon in palpable waves.

"N-no, no, I will find you information. I'll do all that I can."

"And here I was under the impression that you already _were._" When the demon said nothing and did not move, she cut her eyes at him in warning. "_Go._"

He sprung into movement immediately, startled and terrified of what she might do if he did not move fast enough.

* * *

"Do you have any idea what you're dealing with here?" Slight panic crept into his voice.

"It's an Eggo, Xander. Chill."

"It has to be just right! Not too crispy, but not floppy either. There is an applied science."

Dawn rolled her eyes, walking over to the dishware cabinet. "Okay scientist, you do it."

"Don't mind if I do."

"Hey, have either of you seen Buffy?" Willow asked, walking up behind them.

"Don't believe that I have. Actually, I haven't seen much of her at all lately," Xander said, keeping his eye on the toaster after sparing a glance at his friend.

"Me neither," Dawn said distractedly, searching for her favorite cereal bowl in the cupboard.

* * *

Buffy was experiencing a profound lack of words. Something had shorted inside her and for some reason she felt that whatever she was seeing at this moment in time was being caused by said shortage, and she was in fact alone in her room and would snap back to her senses at any given instant.

Unfortunately, this did not happen. The only change that occurred was the grin on the other woman's face growing slightly larger. She seemed closer than she had been seconds before.

"You know I think you're needed back down here on earth some time soon." She saw Faith's ample lips move as her rich voice reached Buffy's ears, a sound forgotten until now. Her mind seemed to spark to life in a way it had not done in a long time.

"What?" Buffy was aware of her own voice saying, still not completely coherent or comprehending.

"Buffy." The sound of her whole name coming out of the mouth of this particular person, combined with the sudden change in the tone of her voice, brought Buffy fully out of her daze. She could see Faith recognizing that she had her attention, and thusly relaxing and masking her expression once again before speaking in a more familiar manner. "So what's new? Saved the world lately?"

"What are you doing here, Faith?" Her inflection was less than welcoming.

"What, can't a girl get some love? I never seem to get a warm welcome anywhere I go." The sentence held more emotion than she had intended. She compensated. "Just thought I'd drop by, see how my favorite Slayer was doing. Nice digs, by the way. Looks like you made the house bigger."

"Bigger and better. Xander did most of it. It was too small with the amount of Slayers we were getting. You might remember that." Her tone was bitter, but only in a way that would show if one already knew it was meant to be. It changed to curiosity. "How did you know we would still be here?"

"Oh, trust me, there are ghouls and goblins all over that know where you are. They just don't come knockin' at the door." Faith looked down at the floor for a moment, then back up. "How about a tour?"

"You already seem to have made yourself at home." Buffy raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

She smiled in a way only she could. "Hey, the room looked like the nicest so I figured it must be yours. Where else would I wanna lounge? I was just waiting, I didn't go through your panty drawer or anything." Her eyes lit up.

Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, in what could have been impatience or disbelief, opening them to fix the girl opposite her with a steely glare. "What do you want?"

Faith chose the only thought Buffy would be able to handle hearing. "Heard talk there's evil abrewin', figured I'd come by and help." Not exactly the truth. But that was Faith.

"I have plenty of capable Slayers."

Faith grinned. "I stumbled across my share. I'm sure you do a fine job of training them. But you know no one can compare to me." Joking cockiness. But underneath, Faith was bubbling with hidden anxiety. She hadn't known what to expect – though the harsher the reaction from Buffy, the more she was giving away without even realizing it.

"I can," Buffy shot back, not breaking eye contact.

Faith cocked her head. "That's what makes it so special." Her voice was a combination of sarcasm, wit and sexuality. As usual. Ignoring the comment and the expression in Faith's dark eyes, Buffy gave her a hard look.

"I think we're fine here, Faith. You can go off and disappear again. Really, it's fine." Her voice and face were tight, giving away emotion and yet not at the same time.

Something flickered in Faith's eyes and was gone. She spread her arms wide, choosing not to say what she truly wanted to and ignoring Buffy's digs at her that were far more personal than just Faith's absence. "Look, let's say I've had my fill of the globetrotting for now. I wanna help. I hear Buffy needs help, I come." She smiled sardonically and gave an exaggerated bow.

Buffy couldn't help but snort shortly with bitter amusement. "Yeah, that's what you're known for. Helping me."

"Look…" Faith's tone had switched dramatically, holding Buffy's attention. "I can tell you're not jumping for joy at the sight of me, but – I'm here. And I wanna help. Even if you don't want me to." That was enough for Faith, and the familiar side of her came back out. "And come on, you'd never turn me away, would you? I'm too pretty." Another smile and cock of the head.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Pretty annoying." There was a pause that Buffy suspected was much more uncomfortable for her than for her counterpart. "You're not going to leave, are you?"

Faith shook her head. "Nope."

Buffy experienced an inner struggle for a very pregnant period of time during which Faith stood, waiting, looking around the room and kicking at the carpet with her feet. She tried to read the look on Buffy's face but gave up when it proved futile. The usual cocky mask she had carefully been keeping slipped momentarily as she thought about the situation – as she really _looked_ at the woman before her, who she had not seen in almost three years. Buffy had a much older, even more mature look to her eyes, and her face, no longer the face of a young girl. She was still absolutely beautiful. The impact of this alone almost caused Faith's breath to catch. She was amazed she had kept it together this long. She knew she was asking for something Buffy may have figured she didn't have much right to ask for – for her own personal rasons. She was fully prepared to be rejected; she had had plenty of practice with it anyway. If Buffy refused to let her stay, she would find some other way to convince her, or hang around unseen. There was no way she was leaving, not now. No force on Earth could make her, not even the small but incredibly strong blonde in front of her.

Buffy tried to give Faith her steeliest, most heated gaze, not blinking. "You fuck up once and you're out of my house."

Faith nodded, picking up her bag. "So," she said flippantly, following Buffy out of the room, "Did you miss me?"

* * *

"There is a possibility you may have received mistaken or wrong information, Willow. While it may not be the case, I don't think we can rule that completely out, seeing as how we haven't found anything that could give reason for Buffy's life to be in danger." Giles looked at the young witch from his position at the table.

"I really don't think so, Giles. This psychic was a pretty seriously magical guy, I mean, I could _feel _it when I got near him. It was like… It was almost like when I went all addict-y with the magicks back in Sunnydale. He was the real deal." She paused, the expression on her face showing that there was something she was holding back. "Maybe… Maybe he was trying to warn me of something else, maybe – there's something else involved here that we're not seeing. I think – "

"Look what I found." Buffy walked purposefully into the room, cutting Willow's dialogue short. She was followed momentarily by Faith, who at first glance appeared extremely awkward, nervous and thusly far out of character for a second in time before quickly changing faces as she caught sight of the others in the room looking at her.

Willow, for her part, had been rendered speechless, stunned almost past the point one would think she should be. Her face held an unreadable expression. Giles, surprised as well, still managed to rise from his chair and walk toward Faith, something of a smile on his face.

"Faith."

"Hey, Giles. How's it goin'?" She half smiled, half grinned – the older man was glad to note that it reached her eyes. She had never held any dislike toward him.

"What are you doing here?" His tone was kind; curious.

She shrugged almost too forcefully. "Heard some nasties might be comin' around, figured I'd come help."

His brow furrowed somewhat, only for a second, before smoothing over. "You did? How?"

"You know. Demon talk. Always pick somethin' up. Heard ol' B here might be in some sorta trouble, so I decided I'd swing by. That is if nobody minds." She caught sight of Willow, realizing she still hadn't spoken. "What's up, Willow? No hugs?"

Willow seemed to snap back to reality. "Uh, sorry, I was just… Hi, Faith. It's been a while." She smiled. "Where ya been?"

"Off fighting the forces of darkness in pretty much every country and continent you could think of. Europe's still my favorite, though. Spent most of my time there."

Willow's eyes had become uncharacteristically piercing as she nodded. "Yeah. It's beautiful."

Faith nodded, then asked, "So what have you guys been up to?"

"Oh, you know… Redoing the house, research, training Slayers, research… Did I mention research?"

Faith laughed a little. "Yeah, you did. So what happened with everyone else? Are they still here, or…?"

"Robin's heading his own place over on the East Coast, and we've got a few others set up with people we met along the way, mostly after you left." There was an uncomfortable silence that quickly and easily settled in around the room. "Um, most of the core group is still here. We go out looking for Slayers, I can usually track them down using magic, and we bring them here or to one of the other locations, teach them the basics, see where they wanna go with it. We give them a choice; if they don't want to accept the responsibility, we send them on their way, but I keep magical tabs on everyone so I'll know if any of them get in trouble or decide to use their powers for other things." The discomfort grew even more, if possible, and this time Faith seemed the most affected as the words sunk into her. She shifted her feet, a deep look in her eye.

"Yeah, I uh…I remember you guys were trying to start that up." She cleared her throat, and there was silence once more.

"So," Buffy spoke up, having been quiet for long enough, "I guess we should alert everyone else to Faith's presence."

Faith left the room beside Buffy with unease, Willow and Giles staring after her.

* * *

"All I'm saying is, you have to be careful. It's a very delicate situation." Syrup dripped its way down his chin.

"You, uh – you have a little – " Dawn reached up to his face with a napkin. "Yeah, I get it. Waffles are delicate."

"No, I don't think you _quite _understand yet – "

"Hey guys," Buffy said, a very noticeable fake happiness to her voice.

"Hey Buff," Xander greeted her through a mouthful of Eggo, on which he promptly choked once he caught sight of Faith walking in after her.

"Faith!" Dawn said, a genuine smile coming to her face. "It's so good to see you!" She got up, walking over and hugging the Slayer, who returned the gesture. In the six months Faith was still around after the destruction of Sunnydale and the Hellmouth, she and Dawn had grown somewhat closer; Dawn had given Faith a chance and was quickly and easily both impressed and in awe of the older woman. It was the first time someone had ever made Faith feel good, in every sense of the word, about herself.

"Hey, little D, what's up? Not so little anymore."

"You say that every time you see me."

"Cause it's true." She grinned.

"So where have you been? Why are you back?" Her face quickly turned to one of intense displeasure. "There isn't another apocalypse is there?"

"All over, Europe mostly, came to help, and no, no apocalypse. As far as I know. I heard some things along the grapevine made me decide my time would best be spent back here."

"Anything bad?"

"Nah, don't worry about it." Faith waved her hand. She wasn't going to let anyone else get sucked into anything that was her, Buffy's, and the other Slayers' responsibility.

"I hear leather's really cheap in Italy," Xander piped up, having swallowed his monster bite of waffle.

Faith smirked, raising her eyebrows. "I know." She walked over to him, hitting him affably on the back. "So what's been up, X-man?"

"I'm enjoying a nice life of Cyclops vision and Hellmouth-y goodness, along with carpentering." His tone was sarcastic as he smiled.

It was at that moment that Cordelia entered the room, catching sight of Faith and not breaking her confident stride until she reached the coffee machine, seeming neither perturbed nor surprised, but rather almost satisfied with something only she knew.

"Well it's about time she showed up."


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Note: **All right, just so everyone knows, as I stated in the first chapter, Cordelia being in the picture is completely AU, as she was kidnapped by Jasmine and subsequently in a coma and who knows what else on Angel in the time of and immediately after the destruction of Sunnydale. So we're just going to say that none of that happened, no screwing of Connor or having a lovebaby and she's on the good guy's side (for now – I might choose to make her bad later; I don't remember exactly when she went all evil psycho-bitch, but memory says it was near the time of season 7 of Buffy), for the purpose of this, because I really wanted to have her character around. (Also if anyone has any interesting suggestions they might come up with on what to do with her concerning the plotline, that'd be fine since for right now she's just around mainly for comic relief).

**Also:** Faith received a warm greeting from most because she didn't really leave with bad blood between anyone – she left after letting everyone know what she was doing, and wasn't harsh about it. Buffy's just upset for her own personal reasons, of which Faith is aware.

* * *

**_Cleveland, Ohio_  
**_**July 2003**_

_The house seemed unassuming enough. It was not fit to look like something pulled from a horror movie, nor was it any sort of little house on the prairie. It was, in fact, something of a reminder of suburban middle-class, as if there might be a nice family with two children and a happy golden retriever living inside behind the plain off-white exterior. The only things amiss were that it was observably in need of some fixing up, and it was, for the most part, a ways from the rest of the inhabitants of town. That and the big yellow school bus filling the driveway._

_Soft grass gave way beneath her feet, leading to a somewhat untidy porch in the way that there were loose boards, splintered wood and cobwebs if you looked hard enough. The steps gave a little as she ascended them, continuing her silent appraisal and recalling why she was here. She had been enjoying life just fine for the most part, reveling in great muck-evil Los Angeles with a brooding vampire and his anomalous friends; she had come to have the opinion that life didn't get much better than that after your awareness came to include all the monsters and creatures of the night that so many went blissfully oblivious of throughout their lives. Being asked to come here? Not her idea of a vacation._

_She knocked on the door, unable to find anything resembling a doorbell, and let her gaze wander to the small split happening in the wood of the door, near the edge where the rusted hinges were settled. She could faintly make out the sounds of people fumbling on the other side, and then the door was pulled back to reveal an aged face she instantly recognized, though not one she had been expecting to see when thinking of with whom she would first end up making contact._

_"Hi, Giles," she said cheerily, her happiness so fake that sarcasm was a much more likely base in her tone._

_"Hello, Cordelia. It's been quite a long time. Been wondering when you would show up." His voice held nothing but sincerity, and some understandable awkwardness. He paused, curiosity causing his head to tilt slightly as he noticed something. "You cut your hair."_

_She nodded. "Yep. I take it Angel let you know I was coming?" Her mild annoyance as she said his name was almost completely masked._

_"Yes, he did. He called a couple of days ago."_

_She sucked up what little unhappiness she had managed to still keep with her after her trek across the country and said as brightly as she could manage, "Well, aren't you gonna let a girl in?"_

_He practically jumped out of the way, pulling the door open wider. "Ah, yes, yes, of course, do come in."_

_She lugged the heavy suitcase over the threshold and, upon Giles' comment, said, "The rest is in the car." She didn't think that her rental had been big enough to fit all of her belongings. Though Angel had assured her this was only temporary, she had grown used to the man's habit of only going through with what he promised others half of the time, the other half full of him making excuses. She had made sure to take everything._

_The interior of the house was better than the outside, if only for the fact that it was populated by furniture and people. It definitely needed a new paint job. Giles seemed to sense what she was thinking._

_"Eh, Xander's – working on sprucing the place up. We only just bought it a couple of weeks ago, we're still getting settled."_

_"How many people do you have living here so far?" She looked up at the ceiling, at the staircase, and it was evident she was concerned about having her own space._

_"Well, there's me, Buffy, Xander, Willow, a number of new Slayers, Faith – "_

_Cordelia's head whipped around to look at him. "Faith? She's living with you? Here?" Cordelia had been under the impression that the dark Slayer had done her duty and gone back to whatever meaningless existence she had occupied in prison beforehand. Giles gave her a look, and her tone became slightly less hysteric. "…Angel didn't mention that."_

_"I assure you there's nothing to be alarmed about, Cordelia. Faith is a very changed person since you last knew her, and I trust that you will not antagonize her during your stay here."_

_She half-feigned astonishment. "Hey, don't go pointing fingers at me. I never said I was going to do anything, all I said was nobody felt the need to inform me of anything. I was just told to come here, like it didn't even matter. Who cares what Cordelia wants? 'Go to Cleveland. Help the Slayer. They could use your help over there'!" Unaware she had begun loudly ranting and violently gesturing until she finished, she took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She met his eyes and offered a halfhearted apology. "Sorry."_

_After recovering from his momentary stun, Giles replied, "It's quite all right, let me – let me show you where you'll be staying." He walked toward the stairs, expecting her to follow._

_"Giles," she said, stopping him. "Don't forget about the rest of my luggage."_

* * *

_"So Angel thought it would be in your - and our – best interest to come help us fight the big nasties on the Hellmouth of the East?" Buffy looked at Cordelia across the kitchen. "I mean that's basically what he told us, in slightly different wording."_

_"Well, not so much help fight in the physical sense as help you with my visions and mumbo jumbo like that." She thought for a moment. "Though I could really let off some steam, so physical brutality doesn't sound too bad." She nursed her cup of coffee, relaxing down into the chair._

_"You get visions now?" Buffy sounded almost incredulous, her eyebrows raising close to her hairline._

_"Yeah, I'm just like you." Her sarcasm was palpable. "A superhero. My favorite part is when I get blinding pain. I'll trade you any time."_

_"You didn't want to come out here, did you?" Willow stated more than asked softly from her stance by the counter._

_Cordelia scoffed and rolled her eyes. "No, I didn't get my fill of Hellmouth goodness in Sunnydale, so I thought this would be perfect!" Realizing how much bitterness she had allowed to show, she adjusted her tone to sound rightfully angry toward Angel rather than the people around her, though the idea of living with them wasn't exactly thrilling in its own right. "I just…wish he could've at least _acted_ like he cared what _I_ thought about it, you know?"_

_"Well, at least you'll only be here for a little while, right? Until we get our footing or whatever it was he said?" Willow offered sympathetically._

_Cordelia made another face, looking away. "Yeah, well, we'll see."_

* * *

_By the third month of Cordelia's residence with the Scooby gang, she had noticed quite a few things that had escaped her before, or that were entirely new, borne in the four years she had been away. Besides obvious points such as Xander's lack of a left eye, Dawn and Andrew's presence, and the number of newly called Slayers, she was also picking up on different things that were probably, most likely, not meant to be overtly realized. Like the way Xander would sometimes look at Buffy when she was preoccupied, fear, nervousness and excitement traversing his features; the way Dawn would look at Xander, or once or twice even Andrew, most likely out of the lack of positive male attention she received; Willow and Kennedy's unspoken despondency, entirely unnoticeable to anyone else; the growing relationship between Buffy and Faith, painfully obvious to her though she was almost certain no one else could see quite what she saw, nor would they believe it if they could. She attributed it all to her sixth sense – the visions – and the fact that she had the least to do of anyone in the household, besides when they tried to coerce her to participate in research or even once or twice patrolling. So she was left with ample time and opportunity to entertain herself with the lives of others around her._

_"Here you go, Buff," Xander's gaze would inadvertently drop to Buffy's cleavage as he handed her food, a book, a weapon; linger too long on her figure as she walked away; find himself at a loss for words if she caught him without a shirt on, or he saw her in a breathless sweat after working out._

_Dawn's gaze would travel quickly up and down Xander, once in a while Andrew in his awkwardness, rather than remain steady at face or eyes; she would become very subtly flustered if she happened to bump into or brush up against them. Once there had been a boy in the house, a friend or boyfriend or brother of one of the Slayers, and Dawn had nearly lost her mind. Cordelia had had to austerely stop herself from laughing out loud several times._

_Willow would sometimes walk into a room with a sadness bringing her eyes and the sides of her mouth downward, practically her whole body appearing tired, after quietly muffled sounds would transpire from upstairs, two voices secured away in private. Kennedy would once in a while allow the same expression to grace her features; though both women would promptly and skillfully mask themselves when encountering anyone else._

_Buffy would from time to time sneak furtive glances at her counterpart, clearly not wanting to be caught and noticeably nervous. Once in a while, when passing something between them or merely passing each other, there would be a brush of material, or of skin, that would trigger a visible reaction in both of them. Sometimes, when they chose to move their sparring activities to the backyard rather than the basement, one would pin down the other for just a bit too long, with just a slight different expression, breathing too heavily for trained Slayers who were used to vicious combat. They had re-established their old banter, if not at a heavier level than before; using jokes and looks that pushed gently at the edges of too far, saying things that, had anyone not known them well enough, would have made one assume something entirely different than reality. And there was the lack of personal space, the long glances that were too long and too filled to be random and inconsequential, the extreme awkwardness or ballooned brashness – depending on who it was – at stumbling onto one another just out of the shower, just out of the bathroom in the morning wearing little to no clothing, or other situations where privacy and restriction were intruded upon. _

_Cordelia got an uproarious kick out of all of it. It was almost enough to soothe her resentment at being sent out to Cleveland._


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Author's Note: **Firstly, thank you so very much to those who have been reviewing. Secondly, for the 6,815 others… If the story's good enough to read 20,000 words of, could ya at least give me a "hey, it's good" or even just "good" – anything at all? One syllable? It would REALLY brighten my day like you have no idea and possibly make me update faster…

* * *

Vital consciousness was not one of Faith's outstanding qualities, a fact she was, ironically, more than aware of; however, when night veiled itself over the world, and the rules changed, she was acutely perceptive of everything around her much as an animal would be. Every fiber in her body was tuned in to this period of time, those hours when other kinds of animals came out to play. Her time fending for herself in the unknown reaches of the globe had only honed this into a finer skill.

So when, out for the Slayer's version of a nightly stroll, she witnessed something she wanted to believe she had not, the back of her mind was telling her it was a definite actuality, and thus came over her the startlingly familiar but long forgotten feeling she thought she had left behind, a shock to her system.

* * *

"Do you think that I really don't know you?" He walked closer to her, making his way around a large tombstone and fixing his nearly black eyes with deadly precision onto her; both chilling and scorching at the same time. His voice was low and dangerous. "What you came here for?"

She froze for an imperceptible moment, going completely unnoticed by the individual in front of her. "Asher," she said as she stepped back, annoyed; her eyes, though, still reacting from his words, belied her. "We can play 'scary vampire' some other time."

His face dropped for only a moment, an instantaneous frown creasing his features, all trace of menace gone. Then a devilish grin spread wide, his tone becoming playful. "But I thought you liked that game."

She glanced off to somewhere in the dark behind him, her voice coming out weary. "I'm just tired. We can save the fun for another time." She paused, almost as if remembering something. "Why do you always insist on following me home anyway? Someone could see you."

His jet-black hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at her, that same grin still on his face. "Well someone needs to protect you from the ghouls and goblins of the night." He almost sounded like an insolent teenage boy as he spoke. "And so what if they do?"

She stepped into his personal space, looking up at him and leaving mere inches between their faces. Her tone dripped sarcastic sweetness. "Then you would just be a big scary vampire, and you know what I do to _them_. And – all the other 'ghouls and goblins.'"

He smiled, grabbing her and pulling her to him, pushing his face the rest of the distance to hers, a lustful hunger overtaking him. She gripped onto his dark clothing for a few seconds before ripping away from him.

"That's all you get for the rest of the night. Be a good boy." She looked at him, then turned and walked off, his potent gaze following her.

* * *

Faith stared in fascination as Buffy walked away from what was so obviously a vampire, something boiling in the pit of her stomach and forming familiar knots. Her heart sped up and she couldn't look away from the image of the petite blonde illuminated by the powerful moonlight, now moving briskly through the dark as the creature behind her stood and continued to ogle openly.

Fucking vampires.

As Faith remained, motionless, frozen to her entirely conspicuous spot, everything around the center of her attention seemed to blur and fuzz out to black, leaving all of her senses keenly attuned to the only other being around who was currently alive; until her lingering gaze was suddenly and abruptly returned.

Buffy had spotted her. She had probably been somewhat aware of her presence the entire time, the way that Faith had been partially aware that Buffy was somewhere there before she saw her. Something passed between the two of them, the seconds hanging in the air and seeming to last much longer than they probably did, before Buffy broke contact and resumed her walk, in some unknown direction. Something welled up in the other Slayer's chest.

Faith startled herself.

* * *

She slid heavily into a seat at the kitchen table, paying no attention to anything but the window on the far wall in front of her. She was trying desperately not to think about anything, not to feel anything…to, in a manner of speaking, simply blink out of existence. Therefore, she did not notice anyone who may have also been occupying the room.

"So - met the toy?"

Faith's head shot to the side to seek the owner of the voice, her dark eyes quickly settling on Cordelia by the sink. She said nothing; she had no words that made any sense, and even if she did she would not have chosen to have them heard by her. She let her intense gaze fall down to the tabletop.

An infinitesimal smirk played on the other woman's lips as she gave Faith a knowing look. "I figured you would feel that way."

* * *

She bent down low, seductively, the slit in her long skirt revealing porcelain skin. "Do you need any more encouragement?" She gave the dark vampire a sideways grin, her head tilting playfully to the side.

"No," he bowed just a little mockingly, his jet-black hair falling into his eyes as he looked up at her, "You have my service."

A frightening smile broke across her face. "Good."

* * *

The usual quiet and calm of the household – at this particularly late hour – was broken only by the muffled, thudding footfalls of a young woman, nearly as dark as the house she was aimlessly walking through, and the slight but discernible sloshing of liquid inside the half-empty bottle she carried limply at her side.

She found her way to a hallway where she was vaguely certain no one was sleeping, and so chose this in her half-inebriated state as the place to settle onto the floor, sliding down the wall slowly.

She stared at the wall opposite her, as if trying to gain some sort of information from it, trying to read something imprinted upon it that only she could see. Her eyes were slightly drooping, and had one looked at her they would have thought she was falling asleep. But she was wide awake, and had no chance of sleeping at the moment; not with the cacophony of thoughts raining through her head incessantly, assuring her she was not resting peacefully any time soon. They were merging and melting into one another, surely a side effect of the alcohol she had gladly and heartily consumed until her stomach burned just a little too much; so she was not exactly able to identify any one thought and perhaps get rid of it by solving the riddle that was presently her mind. At this point she was just blankly staring at nothing, thinking of, truly, nothing, because she couldn't _tell _what her brain was trying to say to her – all she was aware of was the aching feeling inside her chest and in her bones, and the burning from the alcohol.

"Faith?"

Her head whipped up too swiftly for the amount of liquor controlling it, and she gripped it with her free hand, wincing in pain. She heard her name again and peered up, still holding her head.

Willow, up late as she usually found herself doing research, seemed to experience an inner conflict before resolving to sit down next to the other woman, giving her plenty of space. When Faith said nothing and barely looked at her again, she spoke softly in the way of speaking that was always purely Willow.

"…Hi."

Faith stifled a burp, now gazing without seeing at the trim down near the hardwood floor. "Hey."

Willow paused for a very pregnant period of time, unsure of what was the smartest move in the situation – maybe Faith did this regularly and it was nothing to be troubled by - before venturing, offering the kind amity she was known for. After all, Faith could be burdened with something just like anyone else. "…Wanna talk?"

Now Faith looked at her, straight in the eyes – more because when she lifted her head that's what she ended up being level with than anything else – and Willow could clearly see the emotion dwelling behind her weary look. She turned her head back to face the wall, taking a swig from her bottle and licking her lips. Willow was thinking of something else to say in the longer and longer silence; then -

"Have you ever… Ever just……not known anything?" She spoke not weakly, not searching, but rather as a husky, casual statement – yet her true sentiments were very obvious to someone such as Willow. "Like… Like you think you know something, and then," she laughed incredulously, dejectedly, "and then you just get _thrown_ right on your _ass_…" She was still staring at nothing on the floor, at something no one could see but her, and for just a moment, her face crumpled and fleetingly revealed the ordinary, normal, feeling person underneath. Then there was Faith again, though the look of sarcastic, dry laughter had not left her. She took another swig. "Or maybe you didn't know anything in the first place." Pause. "I think… I think we just see what we wanna see, you know? None of this bullshit about fate, or destiny, or what we need, or…" She trailed off, still not looking at the woman beside her who was so intently focused on her now. Willow was amazed at the utter grief her bitter smile held.

Willow couldn't find words; she had no idea what was wrong with Faith, and she was realistically not expecting to be given any enlightening information from the woman so well known for keeping her guard up at all times. Though – that rule was already breaking up a bit at the moment. "Faith… I…"

More drinking, a shake of her head. "It'll protect you as long as you wear it." She laughed again, that cruel, miserable noise. "Protect you from swords, and bullets, and daggers, and everything." She looked down, fiddling with the top of the bottle. "Not from…"

Willow, utterly perplexed, looked as such and tried to come up with something to say. She opened her mouth a few times before words found their way out. "Did you… Did you – see something?" She paused. "Did something happen?"

Faith's hands stopped in their fidgeting; she seemed to stop everything altogether, for just a moment of breathless silence… And then the bottle was back at her mouth. She wiped her chin; looked over at Willow, moving her eyes around her face. She had not become particularly close to the woman in her short stay after they left Sunnydale; but they had reached a solid ground of partial understanding and something almost resembling respect between the two of them. There was certainly no bad blood left lying around. And, if Faith was truthful to herself – which in her current state was just a subconscious bunching together of thoughts to form an action she may or may not later regret – Willow was possibly the most, or probably the only, trustworthy person she knew of, regardless of their relationship; however, the alcohol may have been influencing what she may normally have considered unwise decisions. She turned her head away again, her brow furrowing.

They sat on the floor, neither speaking at first. Willow, unbeknownst to the Slayer beside her, took on the same awkward, reticent expression she had when first informed of their newest demon problem. Faith took another drink.

* * *

_**Europe  
**__**July 2005**_

_Willow had been dying to see Europe – for it was part of the world beyond the limits of Sunnydale – for a long time, and now that she was finally here, in the land of the Romans and Emperors and Greeks and conquerors, she practically didn't know what to do with herself. It was her first time in this particular continent – no doubt she would return – and there was more to see and do than she could have imagined, especially for someone such as herself. She had already stumbled across several magic shops that rivaled even the best she had found in California or Ohio – which, by the way, seemed like completely different universes. She was, in all manners of speaking, content._

_At least she had been until she had rounded a corner and came upon something she had hoped she never would; something she hoped had been buried in the past, put away and never to be dredged up again from the depths of personal hells._

_A vampire slayer gone down the wrong path once was enough. After seeking forgiveness, being lucky enough to receive it, paying the consequences and choosing a new path, it was almost impossible to think that one could go astray again – but it seemed as though that was what had happened. The one meant to protect was the enemy – again._

_No._

_She could clearly see her, surrounded by what had to be four demons, if not some other variation of evil entities, walking away from a very dead young man, his body bloody and limp and thrown in an alley. The group of them were laughing uproariously and already on the hunt for another life they could rob._

_Emotion welled up within Willow so strong it surprised even her; she had thought for so long that this woman was changed, that she was no longer that short-lived criminal of her youth, no longer the result of personal demons feasting on her soul. She had believed in her; she had almost come to trust in her._

_No._

_If she had looked just a little bit harder, if she hadn't let the immediate image be so easily and quickly seared to her mind, she would have seen the look of torment on Faith's face, the glassy eyes, and the despair that showed she had taken no part in what was done – that she was trapped._

* * *

What remained of the liquor sloshed quietly with the velocity of the person who held it as she entered the bedroom, let the door close and sat down heavily on the end of the bed. Willow had told her earlier in the day that she could stay in this room; it was, after all, her room – or it had been before she left. Willow said they had just left it as a spare; she had gotten a funny kind of manner when she told her, but Faith just shrugged it off.

A deep sigh escaped her, as her eyes dropped to her hand wrapped around the bottle, watching the moonlight dance across it. She briefly thought of all the veins beneath her skin, all the blood that coursed through the winding mesh of intricate inner channels and tubes and passages every second; her life, what kept her human… Did that even make her human? Did being human make her anything at all? She imagined what would happen if all of her blood was replaced with alcohol. Maybe then she wouldn't be human. Maybe if she filled herself with something that much, maybe she wouldn't want anything else.

"Don't cry," a soft, sinful voice breathed. Faith immediately experienced alarm and confusion in the same instance, realizing quite quickly that her eyes were wet and her heart was trying wildly to escape her ribs. Her third sensation was anger at herself.

She swiftly brought her face up to the sight in front of her, recognition lighting up her dark eyes. The woman's black hair framed her face, hanging down and blending with the fluid black outfit she wore. Her skirt waved elegantly behind her as she stepped closer to Faith.

"Why are you drinking, Faithy?" she cooed with a wicked sweetness that unsettled Faith even despite the amount of drink in her system. "What's wrong?" She stepped again closer to the young woman, a malevolent smile on her face as she cocked her head.

Faith jumped up and backed away, shaking her head, the bottle forgotten on the comforter. "Get away from me." Her spirit was too tired, too despondent to fight – especially against her. She just wanted to sleep. This was not what she needed. She hated this woman. This…thing. For reasons she couldn't even explain.

"You know I could make it all go away." She raised her sculpted eyebrows. "I could take it all away in a second." She reached out to touch Faith's face, and the slayer managed to fly back as if burned.

"_Don't _touch me." Her voice was much more dangerous this time, the venomous words spoken through tightly clenched teeth; but the woman just laughed at her, inflaming her anger. Her head felt hot and confused, and the last thing she could focus on was battling evil, or anything at all; but the one thing she could discern clearly was that she did not want this being touching her, or remaining anywhere near her. She wished she could block her out.

"Would you like it better if I looked like this?" The woman began to shape shift, transforming into something, but before she could finish Faith had let out a shout that was just short of being a scream of rage and lashed out at her violently, finding sudden strength. The woman vanished into the air, leaving Faith to strike out at nothing and almost toppling over.

She collapsed onto the bed, slightly shaking, her breath ragged and her eyes tightly shut. She willed her mind to go blank with what little power she still possessed, to push the overwhelming thoughts and sensations out. She punched the mattress, once, twice, kicked out at nothing, and then grabbed the bottle and quickly downed what was left.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Author's Note (Please Read!): **I want everyone to know, if you're confused – if it's saying I'm posting Chapter Fourteen or whatever and I already did, it's a different chapter; I'm combining some of the past chapters that were too short, so it's minimizing the amount of chapters that I have. I'll be doing this once or twice more, so bear with me, and if you get alerts that say "Chapter Fourteen" or anything more than once, it's probably a different chapter each time, as I'm combining the chapters whenever I find the time. (I'm also editing them). Beware I've encountered a road block and am having a bit of trouble, so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out but it WILL be out. Don't you worry.

* * *

She didn't know why she was coming back here. There was a plethora of other cemeteries and creepy dark places in Cleveland where she could patrol. She had already tried reasoning with herself that this was the closest to the house, and she was lazy – but that would just be a blatant lie, one she couldn't even bring herself to believe. Her? Lazy? Please.

Perhaps on another night she might have felt impartial and detached from what she was doing – not so much in the way that she didn't care, but more in the way of less than what she was feeling now. There was a distinct vibe running through her, informing her that maybe this night was different, or this cemetery was different; something was off, and it was messing with her equilibrium. She stifled an involuntary twitch, reaching down to reassuringly feel the wood of the stake slightly sticking out of her pocket.

She moved around a few headstones, weaving her way across the grass, not entirely sure on what she was expecting. She kept her eyes trained on the dark areas all around her, senses alert and ready.

She realized he was there moments before he appeared from the shadows, very suddenly, and would have driven the stake home in an instant if it hadn't been for the familiarity of his face, and the recognition that impacted her upon seeing it.

It was the vampire she had witnessed Buffy with the other night – the one both of them had yet to bring up any time they were within possible speaking distance of each other. She didn't know if it was fear, or anger, or maybe an entire _lack _of caring on Buffy's part that meant she didn't even deem it important enough to be talked about. It seemed more avoided than the plague.

He was not handsome. He wasn't even good-looking, by Faith's standards. Though she certainly was biased. She hated the way his hair fell in his face, and the way he seemed to try far too hard to appear and give new definition to the term 'dark.' The first word that popped up in her head, besides the swears and insults, was _wannabe._ She almost wanted to scoff.

"Hi there." He waved at her, though his eyes and tone purposefully belied him.

Faith crossed her arms, barely containing a sigh. "And why am I not staking you right now?" She would love nothing better. She could practically feel the stake in her hand already. She didn't want to hear what he had to say; it would be nothing but head games and malicious stupidity anyway, designed to confuse, distract, and wound.

He shrugged. "Beats me. It _could _be because…" he smiled wickedly, "I'm Buffy's current playmate and killing me might upset her feelings." He said the last words mockingly, then paused. "But why would _you _care about _that?_"Clearly amused; if he had any idea what his words were triggering he might be in uproarious hilarity.

She shook her head slightly. "I'm so not in the mood for this."

The vampire put a hand to his chest as if flustered. "I don't believe I introduced myself." He held out his hand, smiling in the sinful way only those on the darker side of civilization could. "I'm Asher."

She stared at him, not moving. "Some day. I'd really love to understand. Why Buffy always goes for the guys with the weirdest fucking names." So far she was not impressed. Though she rarely ever was. She highly doubted this ass would make her list.

He gave mock offense. "Well that's not very polite. I'd never say _you _had a weird name."

"You don't know it."

He held out his hands suddenly, his eyes tightly shut as if he was receiving a vision. "Wait! Wait! I'm getting something! Uuuuuhhhh – " he snapped his fingers as his eyes opened, "Faith!"

Her eyes narrowed as her suspicion and anger grew. "You know what? I don't even care how you know that. Why don't you just get out of my face and I promise I won't give in to my more primal urges. Agreed?" Why had she come back here? What had she been expecting?

He leered at her, more amused than ever, a grin nearly splitting his face. "And what, pray tell, would _those_ be?"

Faith was practically snarling. "What. Do you. _Want?_" Why was he bothering her? What purpose did it serve? Did he do this to everyone who walked through the goddamned cemetery? She doubted it. It certainly couldn't have been the way he picked up Buffy. She wasn't sure how much longer she could contain herself; her temper was especially high when it came to evil things, especially evil things who fucked with her.

He smiled cheekily, opening his arms wide. "To be loved!"

She had had enough. "That's it." She ran at him, thinking only of how nice it would be to watch his ashes fall, but somehow not able to bring herself to grab her stake.

He quickly dodged her, jumping out of the way. "Oh no no! Our precious Buffy wouldn't like that too much, would she?"

"Why don't I just tell her what an _enormous_ shit-faced asswipe you are? Or remind her of the fact that your face and your maturity level are on par with those of, say, a 14-year-old." She couldn't believe for any amount of time that Buffy ever saw this side of him; she would never accept it. Either that or she had changed much more than she let on. Did all the dicks of the world save their impiety just for her?

He put both hands to his chest. "Ooo, that one stung."

"What do you _want?!_" she shouted, her irritation flaring. She still didn't understand why this jackass had chosen _her _to zero in on with his annoying insanity.

For his part, the vampire maintained complete – and maybe forced – calm. "I believe I already told you." He sighed and looked down at the ground, then back up at her. "But, I guess if you want another explanation, I _could_ say that I'm working for a high-level demon who wants you to reconsider your career options. Buuut that's just no fun. I just _really _love pissing you off." He smiled joyfully. "It's just so easy!"

Her tone was incredibly blunt, and completely devoid of any emotion. "What the fuck does Buffy see in you?" His comment had rolled right on by her, as she found herself not caring so much about whatever gibberish he was spouting anymore; more than anything, in fact, she wanted to figure out why, _how,_ this idiot had_ possibly_ managed to woo the slayer.

He faked concentration, then answered. "A big cock?"

Her hands involuntarily balled into fists, and her breathing quickened. Fuck what Buffy would think. She was ready to kill him. And if she couldn't kill him, she'd kill something else. Maybe go find one of his friends. Or all of his friends. _How would you like that?_

His eyes lit up, and he spoke slowly and meaningfully. "Now _why_ would that bother _you?"_ He was absolutely delighted with what he had pulled out of her.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself as best she could manage, trying to flip his comment on him, ignoring with impressive force what felt like lava raging through her. She was focused on turning his own mindfuck against him. "Question is, why am _I _so important to _you?_"

He offered a laugh. "My dear, my dear, you've got it all wrong. You're just my pick of the night because, well, frankly, there's no one else around. And I could sense you a mile away. And anyway you started it. I was very polite, I even offered to shake hands. But no, no, you had to go and start insulting me when I was just showing good manners."

She was suddenly enlightened by a thought, her eyes narrowed in partial understanding as she saw him from a new angle, one that made her feel much more in control. "You know, I'm starting to think you're just a tool for Buffy." She lit up with satisfaction at having figured it out. "You know, something to uh…pass the time? Fill the hole? Play with when bored until bored again?" She grinned excitedly upon seeing his look of mockingly sardonic happiness falter. "Bet she doesn't give a _thought_ to you, not even when you two are gettin' hot and heavy." She found her familiar cockiness that had been lost somewhere in the contemptuous conversation.

Finally, his mask of derisiveness was crumbling. She had made him angry; she had found his sore spot. He scowled at her, his teeth showing. "Yeah, like she _ever _fucking thinks about _you._"

It didn't even faze her, not now that she had him. "So _not _my point." Along with her sudden illumination came the thought, the realization, that Buffy may have been the entire reason he even approached her. But that left an even bigger 'why' to be explained.

He seemed more relaxed, having apparently thought of something else to throw at her, to take the attention and malice off of him. "What _were _you doing out there on your travels? Your big _adventure?_"He hopped up onto a nearby tombstone, full of new vigor. "Did you slay lots of evildoers? Fuck a lot of foreigners?" He looked down at her, smirking evilly in the sick way that made her want to twist his neck, and she could just sense what was coming. "Kill anyone?"

Her initial curiosity at how he seemed to know more than he should about her was overtaken by the rush of heady emotion she fought back at his last words, and she found herself suddenly uncertain of what to say. She couldn't think straight. "Why do you think you know so much about me?"

He jumped down, landing directly in front of her. "Because I do." He walked closer. "I know how you think. What you do. What you want." He looked her straight in the eyes, and she saw nothing. Nothing she would ever wish for.

She had the stake pointed at his chest in a breath's time, the unforgiving tip pressed against his shirt beneath the dark jacket. "Who the fuck are you?" She knew he posed no threat. She knew she was more powerful, and if she wanted, he could be dead in a pile at her feet before her next heartbeat. But there were things welling up inside of her now, and he was the cause. She pushed the stake in harder, and it easily cut through the fabric to touch the cold skin underneath.

He shrugged, entirely unfazed by her action, his smug self-confidence back in place. "Nobody. Just wondering what it is you want." He got closer to her face – too close – and whispered harshly. "Did you like watching him die?"

"Game over." She shoved roughly past him and walked swiftly away, leaving him grinning after her.

* * *

_**Cleveland, Ohio  
**__**September 2003**_

_Faith had been drinking; that much was obvious, if not by the nearly empty bottle in her hand, then by the glassy eyes and too emotional communication. She didn't do this often – as far as anyone knew – but when she did, she usually had a reason. She was currently sitting on the front steps with an unreadable expression._

_She looked away from Buffy, at first seeming completely impassive. "Can I ask you something?" She paused, then continued without getting an answer, though she knew what it would have been. "Why did you always accept Spike?"_

"_What?"_

"_Spike was a vampire." She stated it matter-of-factly._

_The blonde slayer was immediately defensive, uncertain – yet not – of what was coming. "I know."_

"_And he wasn't like Angel. I mean, he didn't have a fucking soul, not when you decided he was good enough to sleep with, and keep around, good enough to trust…" Her voice broke at the word, and she paused for a moment. The alcohol was inhibiting her from keeping her emotions at bay. "He was fucking _EVIL_," another unnaturally high crack, "and you could_ still_ accept him more than me. More than you_ ever_ did for me. It was like – like everything with me was always dark. It was always serious, and unacceptable, and_ frightening_ to you… And I was too much for you to handle because you wanted evil to be evil and good to be good, and there couldn't be any gray areas. And – well, fuck, that's just what I am, isn't it?" _

"_Faith… It's complicated." She should have been lashing out, defending herself, but for some reason she didn't._

_Faith's mind was telling her to stop, that this wasn't the time or place, but it was fuzzed out by the feeling in her chest. "Yeah. Yeah, I bet it is. He's evil, he's_ undead_, not to mention a slayer killer; I'm a vampire slayer, trying_ so hard_ to do the right thing, to – to do what you_ want _me to, and the one time I fail – the_ one _time I needed help, you couldn't be bothered. I was on_ your side_, Buffy, I was one of the good guys! And you couldn't trust me, couldn't believe in me, couldn't…"_

_Buffy was rendered completely speechless for a moment. She hadn't thought – or maybe had kept herself from thinking all this time – that this would ever come up again, that her past with Faith – the far and __bittersweet__ past – would still be dredged up and thrown in her face. That Faith was human, and still felt her scars. She found herself blinking back tears she hadn't realized were there and wasn't sure why they were, or even what emotion they were borne from. "Faith… It was more than that… Things with Spike were…were complicated, it was – "_

"_Stop. Using. That word."_

_Buffy let out a deep breath, thinking of what to say. She didn't want to be having this conversation, didn't want to be doing this now – but Faith wanted it, maybe even needed it. "I_ needed_ to believe in him, because I wanted to think that I could change someone, that someone like that_ could_ be changed… I cared about him… And – and when it first started it wasn't about that anyway, it was com – " she caught herself, " – confusing, I was – I didn't know what I wanted, or – how to fill this giant hole I had in myself. I was looking in all the wrong places, and – Spike happened to be in one of those places."_

"_And after that?" Her tone was searching.  
She sounded defeated. "You weren't around."_

"_Would it have been different if I was? You hated me when I went to jail. You never would've been ready to forgive me, especially when Loverboy was there to distract you." _

_Buffy's voice was soft. "Faith… What are you looking for?"_

_The other woman shook her head, looking away. She took a moment in answering. "…It just really sucks that there was something – _that_ bad about me that even when I was good…I wasn't worthy of anyone's faith." She laughed bitterly at the unintentional pun._

_Buffy thought about her next words; though they were simple, they were sincere. "…It can change. You know it can."_

_Faith looked her deeply in the eyes. "What if_ my _faith's broken?"_

* * *

Faith had resisted the very strong urge to raid the house for liquor once more, instead settling for punching a sizeable hole in a tree outside and upsetting a large number of small woodland creatures. She had then retired to her bedroom, making sure to silently evade the few who were still up late in the house. Once the door was closed, she fell heavily onto the bed, very much aware of how familiar the situation was to the one she had experienced a few nights ago. _Please don't let it mean anything please don't let it mean anything please don't let it…_

"Faith," a voice said slowly and wickedly sweet from the other side of the room.

_Fuck. _

She tried to steel herself as best she could, prepared for what was about to come. This woman – demon – was _not _the thing she wanted to deal with tonight. At least this time she was sober. She mustered up her courage quickly, focusing all the mixed unpleasant emotions she was feeling on the thing in front of her. "Do you have a tracking device on me or something? Or like, a light that blinks when I'm alone in this bedroom?"

The woman smiled, and Faith's face involuntarily twitched. "Faith, I thought by this point you would be happy to see me."

"Fat chance."

Her tone slid out deep and rich. "I can see you, Faith. I can see straight through you. Into your core."

"Hey." She put her hands up. "I'm not into that."

The woman laughed, looking at her with appreciation. "I knew someone like you once. Much more unruly than yourself. She turned out to be a fine example."

Faith felt something like disgust, mostly at the fact that she had no idea what she was talking about and therefore figured it could be anything. "Of what?"

The question was ignored as if it had never been asked. "Faith, do you ever wonder what you could do with your talents? Your gifts?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Okay, look, I really don't wanna hear it, all right? I don't want any part of whatever it is you're trying to get me to do. Really. Just… Go away. Twice was enough. I don't like surprises." Nothing would please her more than to have this woman gone. She had enough problems inside her head.

The demon smiled confidently. "Wouldn't you like to get him back? For what he said?"

Faith's head snapped to glare at her, though she was fully aware the woman was grasping at anything she could. "I can take care of that just fine, thanks. I don't need any bewitching." Indeed, she could handle _that _situation all by herself, and take full pleasure in doing it. Eventually.

"Oh, but things are so much _easier _when you don't have _rules _to follow. Consequences. You're _free._"She paused, and Faith remained silent, looking away. "Remember what that feels like?"

The slayer let no emotion slip out, even as a series of past images, events and sensations ran painfully through her mind. She focused on the wall and lamp that were in her current line of vision, determined not to let this woman win. "I don't care."

"The carelessness, the pure _liberty_ of it; the freedom from righteousness, and morality, and _pain_ – "

No… No, no, there was no such thing as freedom from anything. She knew that. There couldn't even be freedom from this bitch, let alone any other plight of the universe. "Stop. Get out."

Her voice remained the same, enticing and charming. "Faith. Don't you want the power to have what you want?"

"Stop it."

"You could just _take_ what you wanted. Isn't that what you used to say? Want, take, have? You could _have _it, Faith, you could _have _it _all… _You could have – "

"I could get you to leave? Cause that would be a _wicked _superpower." She willed herself to stay composed, finding a shred of her normal confidence prompted by the intense anger and annoyance this woman was causing in her. She couldn't give in, she couldn't be weak. That was what this thing wanted.

"You know what else you'd be free of?" She paused dramatically, and Faith just knew she didn't want to hear what was about to come. "Guilt." Despite herself, the young woman let visible emotion cross her face. _No. _Her chest began to ache worse than she could remember. "It'd be gone. You'd never have to feel it. Never have to live with it. And other things… Like compassion, forgiveness, love…" Faith winced, "…You'd never have to feel them. Or care about them. Or deal with them."

At that point, Faith stood, looking the woman dead in the eye for the first time throughout the unbearable conversation. _Forgiveness. _Now that was something she wanted, the one thing she had wanted more than anything in the world, more than anything in her entire unpleasant life – and _that… _That was something she had gotten. She felt invigorated with renewed strength, remembering herself, her past, and what she had learned from her own mistakes. What the consequences that this woman thought were so great to be free of had taught her. What they had done for her. Not to mention other things that she _did _want to feel – that she truly craved to keep inside her. Her voice was clear and steady, and signaling with finality the end of the exchange. "Maybe I wanna fucking deal with them. Now get. Out."

The woman looked back at Faith, boring into her, looking for something. The piercing gaze did not affect Faith, as she stood strong and firm. The woman smiled before disappearing with a poisonous laugh that rang in Faith's ears, echoing around the room.

She crumpled back to the bed. Now that the pressure was gone, she felt completely and totally drained, her sudden strength ebbing away just as suddenly. Why was this happening?Why her? Did cosmic energies decide to line up and create shit piles just for her to jump over? She took a deep breath, searching desperately for some semblance of calm or peacefulness – she had never found much, and this certainly wasn't going to be the time she would. She breathed in the scent of the comforter, and lay back against the pillows. She looked at the empty space where the woman had been standing. She could not keep doing this. She only had so much strength within her.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**AUTHOR'S NOTE (IMPORTANT): **PLEASE READ THE CHAPTER BEFORE THIS ONE, because I'm combining previous chapters that were too short, so the number of chapters is getting cut, so while you think this is the newest chapter, the one before it actually is – you might've thought it was an old one but it's not. Go back and check. I'll be doing this again, so if you think you've already read "Chapter Insert # Here" when the update pops up in your email or whatever, double check. Thanks!

* * *

Faith busied herself with washing the dishes, giving her something to do at least with her hands if she couldn't distract her mind from its persistent current of unrestrained and normally buried thought. As she watched the bubbles foam up around her wrists, trying to focus on the shiny little rainbows captured within, she realized how absurd it was that she was using bubbles to engross her brain in something not so damaging to her psyche. Not to mention the sudden startling image of her as a housewife with an apron on, pleasantly and happily doing kitchen chores while the sun streamed in and the birds sang outside. She preferred the whirlpool of confusion.

"Faith?"

She jumped – more like spasmed, her hands shooting out in front of her and spilling soapy water onto the counter while her heart did a painful, squeezing somersault in her chest. She mentally berated herself for being so obliviously lost in her mind. She cleared her throat. "Yeah?"

Buffy's voice was tentative, as though she herself were not certain of what she was saying. "There's a new girl that just came today, and – there's only your bedroom left, and when you were gone it was just an extra bedroom, and we don't have any more bedrooms, so she needs yours." She paused, seeming incredibly unsure whether or not to continue speaking. Eventually, she did. "…If you want, you can stay in my room."

Faith, while at first giving Buffy her full attention – mostly because she had given her a heart attack – had gradually, as the other woman spoke, loosened back up and returned to her task as she listened, her striking features softening into an amused expression. Now she grinned as Buffy finished. "You just used the word 'bedroom' three times in one sentence, B." She shook her head, giving mock disapproval. "Bad grammar." Her eyes twinkled as she looked at the blonde.

Buffy at first didn't respond, realizing she had indeed spoken like an idiot, before finding words. She made sure to keep her face a mask of coolness. "Well, anyway, the offer stands. I figured you might want somewhere to sleep besides the floor."

Faith turned partially toward her, putting a wet hand up to her chest in faux astonishment. "You would let me sleep in your bed? Are you sure the sheets won't spontaneously combust or something?"

Buffy closed her eyes momentarily, trying to gather her thoughts. "I'm not even sure what that means, but… There you go. That's all I got." She threw her hands up in finality.

Faith raised her eyebrows, positive that the other woman was merely doing this out of some strange sort of guilt or dire need to do all kinds of right by other human beings – and that she certainly did _not _want anyone sharing her bed, no matter what she said – especially Faith. "Don't worry, you don't have to throw yourself upon the stake. I'm not picky. The couch'll do just fine."

Buffy seemed completely caught off-guard, something Faith had not expected. As well, Faith's response was not expected, and so Buffy had to take a moment to realize what she had said. She had wholly expected her to take full advantage of being offered the opportunity to share not just a room, but a bedwith the other slayer – and she had turned it down. Buffy's voice came out sounding almost disappointed, if not for the mere fact that she had been wrong in her assumptions. "…Are you sure?"

Faith had to forcibly stifle a laugh. Was Buffy that surprised that she hadn't said yes? The idea was highly amusing. She grinned widely. "Yeah, B. Why, you wanted some company tonight?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and walked off without another word, leaving Faith to chuckle quietly and contemplate by herself at the sink.

The past week or so had gone by relatively smoothly, for the most part; she found that she was quickly getting back into the swing of things – the swing being living with that many people again – though there had already been several instances where her patience had been tested. Like the night Xander decided to walk into the bathroom while she was showering; she had almost killed him, even though he swore over and over again that he had knocked. Or having to wait for food at dinner. Not to mention her run-ins with annoying vampires and demons bent on torturing her.

Despite the not-so-awkward greetings she had received from almost everyone when she had first arrived, she knew that they all had their curiosities about why she had left; why so suddenly, though she had told everyone and said her goodbyes, and why she had been so adamant about it. She had managed to repair some damages in the time she had spent before she left, and it seemed the mending was strong enough to keep until she came back. She was not used to being so welcomed, or to have these same people who she had once tormented look at her with appreciation on their faces. She knew they all had their scars – her included – but it seemed most of them were good enough people to move on… To heal. It inspired her to try – it always had – even if she would never let anyone know.

Buffy, of course, was of the few that did not make her feel so accepted – not that she had ever expected her to. She was well aware that her standing with Buffy had always been complicated, different, problematical – to say the least. It was something they had both grown used to. Once in a while when she felt like inflaming her brain she pondered why it was that Buffy _was _so unhappy with her, with her leaving and subsequently coming back. She never fully understood why, but a part of her always knew what she did would effect Buffy. It had taken everything within her to return, knowing she would not be facing a warm greeting from the one person she would've valued it from most. She wasn't naïve. She had been lucky that Buffy had even agreed to let her stay. The few times they had talked – over dinner, or when they both happened to be watching TV, or in other random situations where it seemed inevitable – it had been awkward and uncomfortable, though Faith never let on with her own sentiments. She was cool as a cucumber, as far as anyone else was concerned, and she preferred to stay that way. There had only been one occasion so far where her persona was worn down.

_Buffy caught the girl's leg in mid-swing, eyeing her intensely. "You have to be quick and sure of your actions, Mona." She pulled the girl's leg back, resulting in her coming flying down onto the mat on her back. "That's what happens." She held out a hand to help her up._

_Faith had wandered downstairs to grab some supplies and train on her own time, by herself, but this proved impossible as soon as the group of girls assembled around Buffy caught sight of her. _

_"Faith!" one of them called to her, and she looked sharply at the girl, hoping she wouldn't be asked what she knew was coming. "Buffy, you should spar with Faith! You guys are the best Slayers there are! You could demonstrate what real fighting is like." She was joined quickly by a loud and excited chorus of agreement from the rest._

_Buffy turned her eyes in Faith's direction. "Um…" She paused, holding meaningful eye contact with the other slayer. "I think Faith is busy."_

_Faith briefly entertained the idea of kicking Buffy's ass in front of an audience, but let it go. "Yeah, listen to the blonde. I got things to do." She walked down the rest of the way nonchalantly, heading towards the weapons._

_"Like what? Couldn't you just take five minutes? Please?" one of the girls begged._

_Faith decided to pass the buck. "It's up to her." She nodded toward Buffy, then picked up a hefty looking sword and swung it around her head._

_Buffy was glaring daggers at her, while she was paying attention to the weapon she was currently trying out. Irritated that Faith had left the decision up to her, on top of the clamor of voices now solely focused on herself, imploring and begging her, she came to a new resolution. _

_"Who's up for an ass-kicking?" she said, unable to stop the grin that spread across her face as Faith stopped casually swinging the sword around and looked at her, while the girls ran over to the benches against the wall to watch. She tossed the weapon to the side, strutting towards the other slayer, her deep gaze never leaving her._

_"You really want an ass-kicking, B?" She stopped a few feet away. "Cause that would be really embarrassing for you." She matched Buffy's grin, her eyes gleaming._

_Buffy smiled sardonically. "I'll try not to ruin your nice leather pants." She flicked her gaze down, then back up. _

_"Don't worry. They're pretty resilient." She gave Buffy a look that couldn't be mistaken, and then without warning swiped her leg out underneath her, bringing her to the ground hard. She turned toward the group of girls intently watching. "See, the more you talk, the more you distract. Good tactic you should learn." Her smile disappeared as she went flying to the side, having been tackled by her opponent._

_"You should learn to pay attention more," Buffy said as she landed astride her, but was quickly thrown off. Both slayers rolled to the side and stood, poised for action. The words hung in the air as Faith ran forward, and Buffy swerved to the side and grabbed her arms, swinging her around and throwing her to the ground. She let her momentum push her back up gracefully, turning to face the blonde. She threw her leg out high; Buffy blocked it, and she twirled around and brought her arm out toward her head. She ducked, grabbing Faith's legs and bringing her down again before springing back up away from her. _

_"You like me on the ground, don't ya, B?" She quipped, unable to help herself. She rose and jumped up, aiming a kick at the other girl's head that was blocked. She came down and thrust out her fist, beginning a faultless series of blocks, throws, swings and ducks. It continued around the room at an incredibly rapid pace, the forgotten audience almost unable to keep up with the blur of motion. Not a single hit had landed yet._

_"Guess all that time spent fighting demons off in the rest of the world helped you learn how to not get your face punched in," Buffy jibed as she moved out of the way of another punch. There was a bite in her tone that wasn't missed by Faith._

_"I learned a lot, actually," she replied, ducking as a foot swung out at her head. She went running forward, and as Buffy rolled out of the way, leaving her heading towards the wall, she kept going, using her momentum to run straight up it and back flip onto the mat. "Like that." She grinned, and narrowly missed a wild swing._

_"Had fun then?" Buffy's throws were becoming angrier, more fierce and reckless. She advanced on Faith in a manner that was obviously not meant to be playful or cautious. Her eyes were flaring, and had it been possible, they may have turned red. Faith, caught by complete surprise, did nothing but back up until she was against the cool cement of the wall, taken aback by Buffy's sudden intensity and not willing to fight with her if it was a real fight she was looking for. She had to forcibly stop herself from jumping as Buffy slammed her fist into the wall beside her head, creating a noticeable crack. _

_The sudden thick and heavy tension in the air could be felt even by the group of girls, who had by now gone dead silent. Harsh breathing was the only thing that could be heard as a staring match took place between the two slayers, impassioned green eyes boring into resigned brown. Long, fragile moments elapsed without a word, powerful sentiments being passed silently. _

_Faith moved away from the wall and left the room._

Yes; living back here would take some getting used to.

* * *

"Well I don't know about you, but this place looks pretty deserted. Maybe we should try somewhere else." Faith looked around on high alert, very conscious of what cemetery they had wandered into and trying not to let it show.

Buffy had made another surprising move earlier that day and asked Faith if she wanted to patrol with her that night. Of course she wouldn't object – it was harmless enough, and she could always use the handy human punching bag that was the vampire if Buffy pissed her off too much. She needed to get out of the house anyway.

Buffy remained walking slightly ahead of Faith, not looking at her. Her posture was undoubtedly trying for relaxation and casualness, but the tartness in her tone was clearly evident. "What's a matter, this one too boring for you?"

Faith shrugged, attempting to remain calm. Her days of immediately seeing red were behind her – even if it was still a struggle. Nothing good ever seemed to come of instant fierce emotion. "I'm just sayin', we're not really doing much of a public service if there's nothing to kill."

"There's always something to kill. You're just not looking hard enough." She paused. Her voice next came out much quieter, to the point where any ordinary person may not have heard her. "Or you just don't care."

Of course, Faith was no ordinary person. A bit of her irritation crept into her voice. "What?"

Buffy didn't reply for a moment. Then, "Nothing." Soft. Resigned.

Faith sighed. She had nothing to say. She was well aware of how Buffy felt, and there was nothing she could – or, more importantly, wanted to – do to defend herself. After a long silence of walking slowly between gravestones, the older slayer spoke.

"I like it here. It's quiet."

"And dark." _No one to see you with your Loverboy. _She pushed the thought away to be met with more silence; so she decided to ignite conversation. "Well, since we're not actively doing anything, let's talk."

"About what?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know, you pick."

The other woman waited before answering, almost as if on the verge of saying something, and then decided not to. "…I'm not really in the mood to talk."

Faith was tired and not entirely perplexed as to why Buffy had brought her along with her just to argue passive-aggressively. A tiny piece of her knew why, but neither of them was going to talk about it. Partly the reason why she wasn't planning on staying out at this hour if Buffy was just going to play headgames. She stopped walking, fixing her with a poignant stare. "Why did you ask me to patrol with you?"

Buffy stopped as well and turned to face her for the first time since they had left the house, her eyes suddenly fervent. "Why did you decide to show up for no reason out of the blue?"

Faith was surprised at the instant reaction, yet pleased that the climax, what had to happen eventually, had finally come. A week may not seem long, but when it's spent waiting for the moment you know is hanging just around the corner, it can seem like an eternity. Whatever she thought she would say was lost in the emotion that was suddenly boiling up inside her. "What is your problem?"

A voice spoke up. "Lover's quarrel?"

_You have got to be fucking kidding me._

* * *

Willow sat down in the chair, sighing as she looked over the mountain of books piled onto the desk. They were all there for various reasons; it seemed there was always something coming up that needed to be found out. She settled herself in front of the computer screen, scrolling down through the page she had been on before she had taken a much needed bathroom break. As she read, her tired eyes suddenly sparked to life, widening as she gasped.

"No way…"

She grabbed one of the books on the table, flipping it open and avidly searching through the pages as a small, involuntary and unrealized smile spread across her face.

* * *

Buffy was currently fixing Asher with a look somewhere between surprised and deadly, though it did not seem to faze him in the slightest.

Faith gave a mockingly sweet smile and clasped her hands together, her tone venomously sardonic. "Oh, great. Company!"

"Go. Away," Buffy muttered to him in a low voice, eyeing him warningly.

Of course, he was not a people pleaser or by any means carrying plans to make sure anyone else was comfortable. He smiled. "Oh, it's fine. We met the other night." He looked at Faith.

She smiled treacherously, her eyes intensely fixed on him. "Yeah, we left things a bit unfinished." She gripped her stake threateningly, out of sight of Buffy since she was standing to the side in front of her.

His smile hadn't changed, though there was something in his eyes that was much more sinister. "So what are you two lovely ladies up to this evening?"

Buffy's immediate anger seemed to have dissipated into edginess, as if the situation was making her extremely nervous. "What are you doing here?"

He opened his arms. "Hey, _you_ came to _my_ neck of the woods." Buffy rolled her eyes, assuming a much more irritated stance, as he laughed. "Boy, you two should see yourselves. You look like – "

"Like I'm gonna punch your face in?" Faith interjected heatedly.

He maintained his cool, nonchalant stature. "Why do I get only hostility from you? We could be friends." Faith sneered at him, disgusted, her teeth bared. His expression changed as he placed his hand to his face in mock recollection. "Come to think of it, you kind of…"

"Okay, why don't you just go home, and we'll continue with what we're doing, and everyone'll be happy. All right?" Buffy had already had enough. She had no idea what she had planned on happening tonight, but it wasn't this. She knew she shouldn't have come here – she knew Asher could never just leave things alone.

Asher looked at her, highly amused. His eyes were twinkling; but there was still something there, behind the delight, that was much more serious. "You remember? That girl?" His grin was intolerable. "You – "

Buffy's voice was dangerous. "Asher – Go home." Faith looked between the two of them, watching the exchange, something lighting in her mind that she couldn't quite put words to.

"You looking to try again? Is that it?" His mask of enjoyment had dropped, suddenly, without warning, and his true sentiment shone on his face for just a moment. His tone had changed to one of sourness and even, if you listened close enough, anger.

Buffy was enormously aggravated by this point, having not wanted to even have any sort of conversation or communication with him in the first place tonight – especially not concerning this, and especially not in front of anyone. "Asher."

_Buffy fell more than sat down onto the ground, giggling and trying to keep a hold on the nearly empty bottle she held in her hand. Her bloodshot eyes registered Asher sitting in front of her, beside a striking young woman whose dark hair fell into her face as she eyed Buffy. She found herself unable to look away from the woman, her beauty holding her attention as she silently – or not so silently, since she kept laughing – admired her dark features. She could hear Asher saying something, maybe even both of them were talking, but in her inebriated state she was too completely wrapped up in her eyes' current interest. The fuzz in her brain had become more pronounced, spreading like a thick coat of fog over her thoughts, leaving only the simplest of basic desires left._

_The woman had moved closer, and the fog in her mind completely covered Asher. Her eyes locked onto the deep brown staring back at her, and as she experienced an emotion unrecognizable in the shape she was in, she became unaware of what her body was doing. She moved forward, bringing herself nearer to the other girl._

_The rest was a blur. _

"All right, fine." His voice penetrated her thoughts as she refocused on him. He began walking away, bitter and sardonic. "You two are just so adorable together." He laughed grimly, with no trace of amusement. "Maybe you should try some Alize!" he shouted back at Faith as he continued walking. "She'll love it!"

Buffy let out a weary sigh. Then there was only a long, almost painfully awkward, uncomfortable silence in which she debated whether she should turn around and face Faith or bolt. The decision was made for her.

"…You seriously gun for this guy?" Faith had stepped closer to her.

"Shut up." She was very much aware of what an asshole he had just portrayed himself as; no, he had _been _one. And if she stayed on one train of thought long enough to allow herself to actually contemplate the situation, she would know why. But she didn't want to try and talk to herself about it – or anyone else. And if he wanted to throw a tantrum, then so be it. But he didn't have to mortify her in front of the one person he probably knew she would most _not _want around during conversations – if that's what you'd call what just happened – such as those. She realized what she'd snapped at Faith and softened as she spoke again. "He's not usually like that."

Faith cocked an eyebrow skeptically. "I'm sure." Something from the previous exchange suddenly came flying back to her, and her face broke into a mischievous grin. "So what about this girl?" Her eyes lit up, all trace of earlier irritation gone. "Is there a story I'm missing? What has the great Buffy been doing with her time?" She couldn't help the libertine tone her voice took on as she spoke.

Buffy was not going to talk about anything with Faith that would reveal even a scrap of the past that she wasn't around for – especially since she had chosen not to be around for it. She changed the subject to something she actually was curious about. "You two met the other night?"

Faith laughed amusedly. "Great answer. You know it's a worse giveaway if you flat-out dodge the question."

She could hold her ground much better than the other woman was aware of – when it was important enough. She continued to avoid the issue, instead trying to put the focus on Faith. She did want to know what had taken place between her and Asher. "Did you start something with him?"

Now there was very clear, almost palpable anger in Faith's voice, her body stiffening and all her pleasure vanishing. "_No. He _started it with _me."_ She turned and stalked off back in the direction of the house.

Buffy stared for a minute, trying to comprehend what Faith was trying to tell her, before mentally shaking herself and following quickly after her. When she was closer, she spoke earnestly. "I'm – sorry, I just… You both… I don't know what to say. I'm bad with words." Faith kept walking. For the next few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of their footfalls on the grass. As Buffy's mind hurriedly tried to wrap itself around what had occurred in the past fifteen minutes, she came out with the only thing she could think of to say. "…What happened?"

Faith wasn't going to deny the opportunity to give Buffy at least a small piece of her mind. "He decided to compete for the title of World's Biggest Jackass. Sarcasm, cockiness, wounds and all. He's lucky I didn't stake him."

She didn't know why she was asking. "…Why didn't you?"

Faith stopped. Buffy nearly bumped right into her. She turned to look the blonde in the eye, holding her gaze for a long moment. Buffy waited for her to say something. She turned back and kept walking.

* * *

The front door of the large house quietly opened, letting in two silent figures. There were no lights on; the other occupants of the house had all retired. As the door gently shut, Buffy started toward the stairs, then seemed to remember something. She stopped, turning to face the other slayer. At first she said nothing, suddenly uncertain; when she did manage to speak, her voice was soft and tentative. "…Um… The offer's – still there. If you want a place to sleep."

Faith was already on her way to the living room, weary and impassive. She stopped briefly as well. "Don't worry about it. I told you, the couch is fine. I've slept in a lot worse places."

Buffy unconsciously leaned forward. "…Are you sure?"

Faith's expression could not be seen in the darkness. "Yeah."

* * *

Buffy could feel softness on her skin, so gentle the only thing she could think was that she must be on a cloud. There was an extreme peacefulness that seemed to fill her; she couldn't remember feeling like this in a very long time, if ever. She was aware of it deep within her, in a place she thought was long gone. She feared if she were to open her eyes it might all vanish; but she couldn't stop her curiosity.

She was in a bedroom. The softness she had been feeling was the bed beneath her, the cushiony sheets and blankets that seemed to swirl around her. They were pure white. She figured it must be morning, since there was brilliant sunlight streaming in through the large window behind her and illuminating the room. It was spacious, and sparsely furnished; yet she found it beautiful. Maybe that was just for the fact that it gave her such serenity.

She sat up, feeling almost weightless, and caught sight of the door to her left. Somehow she wasn't alarmed or frightened that she had woken up in an unknown place; she only felt curious. A part of her even felt as if this was comfortable, somewhere she should be.

She left the security of the downy bed and made her way out of the room, finding herself not in a hallway, as she would have thought, but in a kitchen. As if she had skipped the rest of the house – or wherever this was – and ended up at the destination. But why the kitchen?

Her question was almost immediately answered.

There was a round, polished wooden table in the center of the tiled, bright room, and sitting at it, casually reading a newspaper, was Faith.

Her hair was tousled playfully, and she held a cup of coffee in the hand that wasn't holding up the paper. She was wearing light PJs, and she looked quite content and customary; as though this was reality, and this was normal.

Buffy could only stand and look at her; she was not shocked, or surprised, or questioning – in fact, she felt just how Faith looked. She was tranquil, and calm, and completely unfazed by the sight before her. It even felt somehow good to see it. She felt something in her hand, and looked down to see that she too was now holding a cup of coffee. She took a sip and looked back at Faith, a small smile of contentment suddenly and involuntarily starting across her features.

Faith seemed to realize she was standing there, and looked up at her with a smile that she had never seen before. It reached her eyes. Neither of them spoke, and yet it felt like they were.

After an indeterminate amount of time passed quite serenely, Buffy suddenly spoke without having told herself she would, or feeling it come out of her.

"We were happy once." It was not accusing, or painful; it just was. A statement; something she felt needed to be said, someway, for some reason.

Faith had gone back to perusing the paper, and as she heard the words, she gave a small reminiscent smile and nodded.

* * *

Buffy's eyes slowly opened, quickly registering her dark bedroom that was very much familiar; her nightstand with her clock, her lamp, her bureau, her television. Her ceiling fan. Everything identifiable and normal. At the same time she realized she had awoken from a dream, one she didn't at that moment understand, or want to. Fragments of it were leisurely swimming along in her head as she recalled the utter delusion, the ridiculous and strange whimsy her brain had concocted. There was no rhyme or reason to it. There was not any explanation or rationale for her to be mystifying herself with impossible manifestations. Although it wasn't the first time.

After the usual mess of sudden and short-lived emotion passed through her and she was about to close her eyes and return to a hopefully much changed unconscious creation, eager to let her confusion ebb away, she realized something. Or more, noticed.

The dark eyes looking at her deeply with some unreadable, hidden emotion were not in her mind. They were not a dream. They were very real, and they glinted as they held her in their unwavering gaze.

The moonlight illuminated her figure lying beside Buffy, silent and still, watching. Barely breathing.

Before Buffy could find any words to say, before the thought of speaking could even find time to come to her mind, Faith had just as silently gotten up and disappeared from the room, leaving Buffy alone in the darkness.

* * *

"Morning, sunshine!" Cordelia said sweetly and as obnoxiously as seemed possible to Buffy at that moment, as she trudged into the kitchen after having just woken up. Cordelia was practically beaming and holding out a cup of coffee to her. She accepted it wordlessly – though she may have grunted – and sat down at the table.

"No one else is up yet. Well, except Giles, because he's an alien, but he's off doing something or other. I made eggs, if you want any." She looked at Buffy, who didn't reply. "I actually cooked." Seeing that the slayer was still not enticed, she rolled her eyes and leaned back against the counter. She looked at Buffy for a long moment, and then a grin spread across her face. "So why'd Faith go for a walk at three in the morning?"

Buffy almost choked on the coffee she had been drinking. She put the cup down, wiped her chin, and looked at Cordelia. She tried to keep her voice calm. "What?" She failed.

"She left the house and came back around the time I was up making coffee. Said she had gone for a walk." She quirked her eyebrow, her expression mischievously amused waiting for the other woman's response.

"Oh," was all Buffy gave, clearly avoiding eye contact and looking pointedly out the window as she took another drink.

Cordelia took on a now familiar knowing, coy expression. "Funny. I don't remember ever seeing her go into her room."

Buffy looked at her now, opening her mouth to tell her that Faith's room had been taken by the newly come Slayer and that she had slept downstairs, but was interrupted.

"Hey guys, what's cookin'?" Xander walked casually into the room, clad in blue plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt. "I smell eggs."

Buffy sighed, looking back out the window.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Author's Note: **SO SORRY it's taken me _forever_ to post, but I just moved to college, and LOTSSS of stuff has been going on… Updates are going to be much more spaced out. I never abandon my stories though, so don't worry.

Next chapter should be longer.

* * *

"Faaiith…" The voice was wickedly soft, enticing, in the way that the curiosity of a back alley begs you to enter it but the fear keeps you away. "Faaiith…"

Faith tossed and turned, trying to block out the sound, not completely certain in her slumber what it was but knowing full well that it was something dirty, something evil.

"Faith… You know you want to come play… It feels so good here, Faith…"

She clutched at something; squeezed her eyes tighter, shook as she pushed the thoughts away.

"No…"

"Remember what it felt like? To get out all that pain… It feels so good to get it out… To make someone else hurt…" Flash of memory. "To feel that rush… One more time…" Visions. Images. Feelings. _Won't go away._

"No…"

"It'll always be inside of you, Faith… It'll always be there, like a sick little disease… You'll never get rid of it…" Swirling, sounds, nothing made sense. Lights and clips of what could or could not be real, all in her mind, before her eyes as though really there. "Just accept it… Faith…"

"_No._" She shot up; sweating, clinging to the sheets wrapped tight around her, eyes wide open.

* * *

"Out for another midnight stroll?"

There could be no more obvious sign of hatred from the Powers That Be than this moment, she was sure of it. The slayer's face took on a mask of irritation as she spun her head to eye the vampire for what felt like the umpteenth, and far past the point of final, time. "What is your damage?"

He put his hands in his pockets, walking beside her. His tone was casual, but she could hear the undercurrent of derision. "Why do you come here if you know I'm here?"

"There are assholes like you everywhere. I'm not gonna turn tail just 'cause you think you can headtrip me." She kept moving, not deigning him with eye contact.

Asher smiled. "I like you."

Faith busied herself with looking around the cemetery for other vampires and ghouls, principally ones she could kill. "I _don't_ like you."

He pulled his shoulders up to his chin cheekily. "Not even a little bit?"

Faith walked away from him with a disinterested air that would have shot anyone else down. "Go to hell," she sighed.

But Asher followed, nonchalant and mocking. "So why'd you come back, anyway? Tired of traversing the rest of the world all by your lonesome? Did you get homesick? Did you have some duty to do?"

She still did not look at him as they walked, responding with sarcastic sweetness dripping with severe dislike. A contemptuous smile appeared on her face. "The only duty I'm going to do is ridding the world of one less moronic undead idiot if you don't shut up."

Asher, completely unfazed if not a little more confident, continued. "You know you won't. You couldn't do that to _Buffy."_

Now Faith stopped to look at him, intensity covering her face._ I've done a lot of things to Buffy. _"You have no idea what I can do." _And you are _not _playing that card._

His eyebrows rose. "Is that a threat?"

"Did it sound like one?" For a split second something clicked into place in her memory and she experienced a modicum of déjà vu.

"You're feisty," he said playfully, a smile taking up his features that would have appeared happy to anyone else, but all she saw was the hatred lurking beneath.

Faith was very much aware he was just trying to provoke her – though she had never been one of the strong, stoic types who let other people's bullshit cascade over her without fighting back. "Don't test me." She paused, a murky thought emerging in her mind, and stopped to face him. She crossed her arms, suddenly curious. "What's the real reason you keep bothering me?"

The vampire put on a faux innocent, pondering look that just begged to be remodeled with a fist and shrugged. "It's a lot of fun and you're easily riled up?"

She smirked without humor. "Nice try, Fang Boy." She swelled with confidence at realizing she had found a way to gain the upper hand. "I think there's something else. I think…" Something filtered through her brain, and her face lit up with sudden partial comprehension. "I'm some kind of threat to you." Asher's eyes lit up, and she grinned triumphantly like she had just figured out the key that won the prize, and she was actually taken aback. Still extremely amused, nonetheless. "I am, aren't I?"

The vampire lost his confidence for only a moment, his outer shell cracking just slightly, before getting it back threefold. He held his head up arrogantly. "I'm glad you think so highly of yourself and your importance, but sadly, you're mistaken." He began walking again, this time in her previous avoidance fashion.

Faith followed him, now smiling with joy at the power she had attained. "Then what was with your little premium hissy the other night?" Both momentarily recalled the night he had bothered her and Buffy. "What is it? You afraid I could take you? Cause I could. Maybe it's 'cause I'm a slayer. Maybe…" Another proverbial light bulb went off in her head, this one much brighter and stronger than the last. The pieces hadn't quite fallen into place, but they were scattered throughout her thought process as she looked at him curiously. "…Maybe I'm threatening something else."

He rolled his eyes; she could see in his subtly clenched jaw and sudden stiffness in movements that she had struck something. "You wish."

She laughed. "Oh, the tables have turned!" The pure amusement grew on her face as she looked at him. "I can find the fun in this now. Do you think – "

He stopped abruptly and turned on her. "Oh, will you stop? It doesn't matter. None of it matters. Just go back to wherever you came from, will you? I don't need you hanging around here and fucking everything up." Beneath his irritation came something else that she recognized: he hadn't meant to let the real, candid truth slip. It gave him a weakness. And she was going to pounce all over it.

A delighted, wicked smile spread across her face, her eyes twinkling. "…I knew it," she said with satisfaction. She chased after him as he began to walk away again. "What is it that you think I could take from you?"

"You can't take anything from me." His voice was terse, almost like he was rehearsing a line in a play that he hadn't quite gotten down yet.

"Apparently I can."

His face changed as he stopped again, once more eyeing her, this time growling deep in his throat. The sudden harsh ridges above his yellow eyes cast shadows in just the right way that almost could have made him look frightening. If Faith got frightened by those kinds of things. "Go. Away."

She was unfazed, if not emboldened. "Not so keen on bothering me now, are you?"

He stepped close to her, into her personal space. "You may not have the stones to kill me, but I'd take you out in a second, sweetheart. So you better back. Off. If you know what's good for you."

Her every nerve was on fire. She grinned at him, cool and confident, but with an underlying air of odium that bit at her words. "You wanna test me?"

He looked over her shoulder at that moment, at something behind her, a look of fear rapidly changing his features; then he was gone, fleeing away across the graveyard. She spun to see what he had been looking at; there was nothing there.

* * *

Giles sat down in a large chair across from where the young woman was almost invisible behind piles of books that littered the desk. Some were thrown open, some were stacked on top of each other; there was very little actual table space left. "You wanted to see me, Willow?" He looked at her inquiringly, if not a bit anxiously.

She looked away from her computer screen, momentarily unable to bring her eyes to meet the older man's. "I – couldn't keep it in any longer, and I wasn't sure who to tell. I don't know how Buffy would react if she knew, or anyone else… I figured you were the safest."

Now Giles appeared even more visibly concerned, leaning forward slightly. "What is it? I assure you whatever it is, it's very safe with me."

She looked at him. "I think – I think I know who the demon's after. And it's not Buffy."

His face took on a very knowing look as he sat back, very serious, and removed his glasses.

* * *

Faith stood, confused, in the middle of the graveyard, not sure what to do or think about the small but strange incident that had just occurred. What had he been looking at, and why did he run when he saw it? What could Asher be afraid of – and why did it disappear? Or maybe she just couldn't see it.

_Whatever. I hope it guts him._

"We should start keeping a time schedule." Faith almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of Buffy's voice behind her. She turned around, throwing on her casual look with her hand on her hip.

"Yeah, I know how slaying with me can be tough on your ego." She quickly took in what the other woman was wearing, noticing that the clothes were fairly decent, and didn't look as if they had been used to slay in before. She looked good.

"Try just tough." She crossed her arms. "What are you doing out so late?"

"Well, _mom, _I just couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd take a walk. And it's just so _unfair _that _I _get questioned and you don't." She clasped her hands together and mockingly acted like a child, her voice achingly sarcastic.

Buffy rolled her eyes and began to walk further into the graveyard, past the other slayer. "Were you talking to someone?" she asked after a moment, fully aware that Faith would be behind her.

There was only a slight pause before Faith answered. "No."

* * *

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.

"Um… Well… The first time I went to Europe I kind of…saw her doing something…not of the good? I turned a corner and she was with this group of demons, and…they just killed this innocent guy…and then laughed about it, and walked away." Emotion crept into her voice. "And… I forgot about it until I went back this time and saw her again – she wasn't doing anything in particular this time, but seeing her made me remember the last time. And…now there's this demon who goes after people who aren't for picking one side of the fence, and I connected the dots." She sounded small and scared, as if what she was saying was difficult. And it was.

Giles' brow furrowed as he looked at the floor. He shook his head slightly, concentrating. Willow thought she might just stop breathing before he finally spoke. "I don't believe Faith would do something like that. What you saw…in Europe. There must be…some sort of explanation."

"Well, my eyes have been doing pretty well for the past 25 years," she said softly.

Giles looked at her, his face serious and resolute. "Willow." He spoke gently but sure, the way he always had, and the way that made it so easy to trust and believe him. He waited until she met his gaze, which took a moment. "We will solve this." He paused. "We have no way of knowing when this demon is going to strike, or even what it's doing. As far as we know it hasn't even done anything yet."

* * *

"Stupid, pathetic ingrate!" Her long black heels clicked the floor in front of him, back and forth, back and forth. She stopped, whipping around to face him and pointing ferociously. "I told you not to let your petty, insolent feelings get in the way of what I'm doing!" She grabbed hold of his hair, violently pulling his head back. She leaned in close to his face. "Do you have any idea how insignificant you are to me?"

"Y-Yes," the vampire managed to choke out, swallowing hard.

She smiled without humor. "Good." She released him roughly. "Do the job I told you to do. Last. Chance."

* * *

"Why is it so hard to believe you sometimes?" Buffy asked as she moved among the grass and gravestones, passing all manner of fake and dying flowers and little American flags stuck into the dirt.

"Because your trust is my Holy Grail, B." It was said flippantly as Faith slowly walked along behind her, making certain not to look at her just the little bit too much that would cause her to go stumbling off into some fresh open grave or mausoleum wall.

The older woman smiled despite herself, believing it – somewhat – to be out of amusement. "You should stop searching so hard."

Buffy did not catch the look on the other slayer's face as at that moment she was tackled to the side by a blue flying something that Faith couldn't even begin to describe. She quickly sprung into action – even if it was mostly instinct at seeing something happen to the woman in front of her – and ran to where the two had landed, wasting no time. Buffy was kicking the thing off her and flipping back up as Faith got close enough to land a violent punch to the back of its thick head. This angered it, and it turned around and grabbed her by the throat before she had time to react. She wrapped both her hands around its giant meaty wrist, preparing to kick off of it – or just kick it in the face – but Buffy handled the situation, throwing both her feet into the back of its kneecaps. It stumbled off-balance, loosening the hold on Faith long enough for her to escape. She began vigorously beating the snot out of its face until it threw her away from it with a swipe of its arm. It then turned back to Buffy.

Faith rolled with the throw, landing agilely on her feet and spinning back around, ripping down a decent-sized tree branch as she went running back toward the fight. She attacked it with her new weapon as it was bearing down on the other slayer, showing no mercy. It quickly became annoyed and tried to smack her away again, but she deftly avoided it and continued her assault. She was no longer thinking, just doing. Just feeling the satisfying connection of the branch with the demon's flesh, or whatever it had. _Fight fight hit fight hit hit save Buffy… Buffy doesn't need to be saved, stupid._

She was flying through the air, backwards, and landing roughly on her back before she realized what had happened. When she got back up, she quickly realized that the demon had somehow gotten the upper hand and was on top of Buffy, who was struggling to get some kind of purchase. Faith jumped onto its back with unleashed ferocity, scraping, clawing, and beating at the thing until finally it gave enough of its attention to her to forget about Buffy. It whirled around, trying to pull her off, but she had dug her nails in and was using every ounce of strength – it felt like – in her left arm, while she brought the branch still tightly clutched in her right swiftly up into the demon's face.

That did it.

The thing shuddered, a disgusting and strangely colored thick – _substance _– dripping and oozing from where its face had been, before it fell forward, and she jumped off as it landed hard on the ground.

She spun around to check on the other slayer, who she had fully expected to still be in tip top condition – maybe a little worse for wear, but nothing significant. However Buffy was leaning against a tombstone, and she looked pretty beaten. Her face was covered with dirt and scratches, even though the fight had in reality probably not lasted that long. Faith walked over to her, somewhat hesitantly, not sure what to say, but figured hiding behind her well-worn bravado would be an easy enough solution.

"You okay?" she asked briskly, but the undertone of concern was still evident, and she knew Buffy heard it.

The older woman nodded. "Yeah… My leg kinda hurts…"

At first Faith stood there, like an imbecile, completely at a loss as to what she should do, afraid to touch her but afraid to do nothing. _Offer her some help… Yeah that would be priceless, kid._

"I think that's enough for tonight, what about you?" Buffy said, eliminating the need for Faith to make a decision.

She just nodded. "Yeah."

Faith reacted very quickly when Buffy went to move forward and ended up falling into her; she instinctively caught her around the middle, holding her up. There was no speaking; she gingerly took Buffy's arm and put it over her shoulders, leaving one hand on the other woman's hip as one walked and one limped back toward the house.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Author's Note: **Wow, so I'm just off my game with this updating business. I think I'm going to stop making promises for _when _I update… Just know that the story eventually will be updated, maybe next week, maybe next month, maybe two months from now… I'll never let it die, that's what I can say… Sorry it takes me so ridiculously long. I get writer's block like WHOA.

* * *

Several weeks had passed since Faith's arrival, and the friction between the pair of Slayers had not dampened even a little bit; though despite this, there was a noticeable reoccurrence, it seemed, every time one of them got up the urge to go patrol. Both were content to believe it was just a happenstance of the Fates, and nothing to do specifically with anything that could possibly hold any importance.

After all, facing the kinds of demons that didn't physically try to rip your arms or legs off was never any fun.

Buffy walked beside the dark brunette who always seemed to be out at the same time she was. She looked all around at anything but the left of her and grasped at excuses for conversation that was still awkward no matter how many times it was tried. "So you've been spending a lot of time out here, huh?"

Faith shrugged. "Gives me somethin' to do. And a reason to get outta the house." While she, too, was playing the look-away game, she didn't seem nearly as tense as Buffy felt. But then that had always been true.

"Seems like you've been out here every night."

Faith shot her a look, but didn't bite the bait. "Well, there's evil afoot. You know." Calm. Collected. Always too unruffled to ever actually be unruffled.

Buffy tried not to stumble over her words. " Yes, there's lots of afooting…" She paused, and there was a brief silence. She didn't know what she wanted to say. No, scratch that; she didn't know _how _to say…anything. "What – usually happens during all of this killing and hunting and such?"

Faith felt the annoyance steadily beginning to gnaw at her, but she carefully kept it in check. "Killing and hunting and such." She paused, her uncouth side begging. "Whadja have in mind?" A grin.

Buffy ignored the comment but turned away awkwardly. "I just…was curious, you know, especially in this neighborhood, the action doesn't really spike too much, not after we sent a bunch of the slayers after that demon clan… Also visibly noticeable by the fact that we've been out here a decent amount of time and have yet to run into anything scary or night-bumpy." Faith raised her head in her own form of a half-complete nod. "I just…don't want you to get into any trouble, that's all." This earned her a look. "You're right, that was kind of a logic-absent sentence. But, you know what I mean…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." There was a long pause. To any other person it may have seemed like a normal, awkward conversation – but the two of them both knew what the underlying issue was, and Faith had never been one for pussyfooting. "That Asher idiot's no good for you, B."

Buffy's voice came out terse, not ready to be called out and having expected Faith's words. "And why is that?"

She wasn't shying away now. "He's evil. He's only out to hurt you." The next part came out more flippant, her Bostonian accent pushing through. "You need to get over this thing you got goin' with vampires, seriously. It ain't healthy." That was Faith. Always first-rate with the serious talks.

"And you're the one to teach me about what's healthy, right?"

Oh, that was too easy. She should have seen it coming. Nonetheless, she stopped, looking around at nothing with an expression ranging an impressive amount of emotions at once, all of them negative.

Buffy stopped as well, thinking before she spoke this time. "Sorry. Old habits. You bring angry quips out of me like nobody else."

Faith, still not looking at her, sighed and resumed walking. "You're better than that, you know." She looked around nonchalantly, as though she was disinterested in what she was saying. "You don't need him."

But Buffy recognized more than she had when she was nineteen. "And where's all this coming from?"

Faith smiled dryly. "I've had more than enough run-ins with him. Pretty sure he just comes looking for me, to stir me up. The guy's a fucking tool, B." Now she looked her in the eye.

Given the choice to either continue a discussion about something that was not going to deprive anyone of sleep, or bite at the core, Buffy decided to plunge into the possibly frightening heart of the unspoken tension between the two of them that had permeated everything for the last month. After a long staring match during which she attempted to mentally prepare herself, she spoke. "Why did you come back, Faith?" At first the younger woman held her gaze, scrutinizing her, and then looked away – again – without responding. Buffy didn't even think before she let the words fall out, seeking some sort of reaction. "I knew you would. It was just a question of how long."

Whether Faith was prepared or not for the impending gravity and significance the stroll in the graveyard had taken on was a moot point when a very large branch connected with the side of her head.

She was momentarily stunned, her head whipping to the side, before instantly righting herself and focusing her attention on the same spot Buffy now intently was: the group of demons suddenly right in front of them.

They were nothing impressive, at least not by the standards of an experienced Slayer; however there were at least five of them. For the most part they seemed focused on beating the snot out of Faith, and this slightly confused Buffy. Maybe she just exuded an aura that pissed everyone off, good or evil.

This thought process was very quick however, since Buffy immediately threw herself into the fight. The demons were for the most part not directly attacking her, but that had never stopped her before. She jumped onto the back of one of them, using her weight to bring him down to the ground hard and rolling off to inflict more damage while he was still at a disadvantage. "_I _– " she brought her foot down angrily, "was in the middle of a _conversation_!"

Faith, nearby, had quickly picked up the branch she had initially been hit with and furiously swung it at the entire pack of them, knocking three backwards and giving one a pretty severe head wound. She barely stopped to catch a breath and bounded after them as they stumbled back, jumping around and swinging her new weapon at an alarming pace. She seemed overly eager to finish them off.

Buffy swiftly impaled her demon onto a nearby rather lethal branch sticking out of a tree and grabbed a second from near Faith, who was continuing her mini-rampage. Once the second was gone, she focused back on the ones that were left. Faith was so preoccupied with the two she was beating into pulps that she actually didn't notice the one coming up behind her – unusual as that was – and before Buffy could push the words past her throat the demon had taken hold of the brunette and flung her across the graveyard, where she smashed through a rather large gravestone.

Buffy lost all conscious thought of what she was doing as something deep inside of her took over, something primal, and she flung herself forward at the three remaining demons with full force and fury, not even registering any blows she may have taken. There was a blur of limbs and whatever she could find lying near her to use as weapons, her body fully kicking in and making sure she didn't miss or err.

Before she knew it there were three bodies lying at her feet, and once that had seeped into her brain and cued realization she quickly spun and raced to where Faith was lying still on the earth. She fell to her knees next to her, and stopped all her rapid movements. Breathing heavily, she thought for a moment about her action, and then gingerly touched Faith's shoulder, as though it might burn her.

"Faith?"

Nothing.

"Faith?"

Her stomach clenched unwillingly. _Wake up… Come on… _Had she been able to remove herself somehow from her body and be an on-looker to the situation, she would have wondered why she was so concerned. But that thought was buried under the immediate feelings she was trying to process; fear being one of them – thought she wasn't quite sure why, since in reality there really was no way a Slayer could be killed just by taking a gravestone to the face. She knew. She'd done it.

"Faith." Her voice was somewhat steadier now.

And then suddenly she was no longer looking at eyelids but dark brown glinting pools, and she involuntarily smiled.

"…Uh, hey B. You checking me for lice or something?"

Buffy nearly leapt back, realizing suddenly how close she had unknowingly gotten to the other woman's face. She quickly found words. "Just wanted to make sure you woke up, is all. Sleeping on the job isn't highly recommended in this business."

"Yeah. I'll remember that next time I go headfirst through stone." Faith rubbed her head, then stood. "They dead?" She brushed herself off.

"Indeed. That was a little strange. I think I'll ask Willow about them. Don't usually get groups unless there's a reason."

Faith nodded, and they began to walk along. The demon bodies had disappeared, melted or vanished or something – easy cleanup. Buffy was heading back toward the house, and while she suspected Faith would have been up for plenty more demon rounds, she seemed to just absently be following Buffy.

Now that the adrenaline and alarm had worn off, Buffy immediately remembered what had occurred right before the attack; what they had been talking about. Faith clearly was not going to bring it up again, if she spoke at all; so if Buffy wanted to talk, she would have to be the one to initiate it. She wondered why all of a sudden it seemed harder than it had ten minutes ago. Maybe she was just letting it get to her too much. She looked over at Faith. The other woman seemed somewhat thoughtful; she had more expression on her face than she had earlier. Buffy decided to speak before her brain had fully caught up with her and could stop her.

And truthfully, she wanted some goddamn answers.

"Okay, let's try… Why did you leave?" She made sure she could see Faith's reaction.

Faith sighed, almost in defeat. She looked down, then out in front of her. "You know why, B. It's not like I left without a word or anything. I wanted to redeem myself. Find myself. See the world, all that good shit. Figured I'd feel better about it if I did it on my own for a while, no help, nothing." She got a faraway look in her eyes for a moment as the memory of Dean struck her.

"And that's all?"

Faith cut her eyes at her.

"_You did what you were brought to do, that's it, you're done. What more use do you have?"_

_She turned the doorknob, completely unaware of what she was about to find. As the door opened to reveal the scene before her, her eyes widened momentarily before quickly hardening over, and she turned and briskly walked away._

She looked away. "Pretty much."

"I'll probably spend several hours kicking myself for saying this later, but…" There was an incredibly long pause during which she had an internal battle with herself over whether or not to say the next three words. After a million thoughts swam through one second of time in her mind, one side won. "…I missed you."

Faith didn't reply.

* * *

At some point Faith had, begrudgingly it seemed, accepted Buffy's offer to share her bed. In the last couple of weeks they had not spoken of the night that Buffy had awoken to find Faith in her room. They hadn't talked about much, in fact – not much of a surprise – save for now, this night. It was the most they had said seriously to each other since Faith had arrived, and as little as it was it most likely had emotionally drained them enough.

This was obvious by the fact that Faith had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head had touched the pillow when they got back to the house – she would've gone to bed in her clothes if Buffy hadn't made the suggestion of getting more comfortable. Buffy, however, was still wide awake, for reasons unknown to her. She wanted direly to sleep, and had tried unsuccessfully for what must have been at least an hour by now. She sat up, quite frustrated, resting back against the headboard. She looked over at Faith.

She was sound asleep on her stomach, her head turned to the side, away from Buffy; she could see her back silently rising and falling as she breathed, and it seemed like the most gentle thing she was capable of. Her dark hair was splayed all over the place, and her entire body was relaxed. It was the most peaceful Buffy could ever remember seeing her.

And then she heard it.

At first it was incoherent, just sleep mumbling… But then it developed into words.

"Fountain…"

What? Was Faith dreaming?

"You… …I don't…"

Buffy briefly wondered what she could be dreaming about. A fountain? Why that of all things? Buffy had never really thought about what kinds of things a person like Faith dreamt about. They certainly weren't happy fluffy ones; that much she could've always assumed.

Her thought process on that note ceased entirely when she heard the next sleep-laden word pass Faith's lips.

"Buffy…"

_What? _

_I'm definitely getting Willow._

* * *

Buffy walked into the room quietly, part of her in awe at the fact that her friend could stay up to such hours of the night being brilliant and doing whatever else it was that she did, even though she had many a night found her up beyond this hour.

"Hey Will."

The witch looked up from her computer screen. "Oh, hi Buffy. What are you doing up so late?"

Buffy smiled. "I could say the same to you." She sat down in the chair across from her, resisting the urge to move some of the mounds of books so she could better see across the table. "Find any more useful information?"

"Not yet." She frowned. "I've been looking everywhere I can think of. I'm starting to think this demon doesn't want anyone to know anything about it."

Buffy leaned closer, as if to tell a secret – even though she knew no one else was awake. "Do you think…if I asked you something in private, you could tell me the answer?"

Willow looked amusedly at her, her interest peaked. "Well… Since we are in private, and I'm capable of answering a question, then I think so."

Now that the moment had arrived to actually voice her thoughts, Buffy suddenly became slightly uncomfortable. She fidgeted as she spoke. "Um… …Well, see, that's kind of the reason I was up so late… I was in bed, and I couldn't really sleep, and I heard Faith mumbling something about…a fountain, in her sleep. I wouldn't have thought anything of it, except that then…" She wanted to pause for longer but realized how awkward it would have been and forced the rest of the sentence out, "…she said my name."

Willow's eyes widened, but she quickly changed her expression. "Um… Uh… I don't know, that does seem kind of strange. I could do some research on that for you, if you want, but I don't really have an answer for you right now…"

Buffy had known Willow for a long time, and Buffy knew when she was hiding something. Not that Willow had ever been the toughest cookie to crack anyway. "Willow… What do you know?"

The other woman paused. "Nothing, honest, nothing, can't a girl do research anymore? "

Buffy leaned in more, her face and tone much more serious. "Willow, what if this is really important?"

Willow slipped. "It's not…" She panicked. "I-I mean, it's, it probably isn't, I'll – I'll look it up…right now… Here I go… Google…"

Buffy gently took hold of her friend's hand on the mouse, looking her in the eye. "Will."


	19. Chapter Eighteen

_"So this is what it's like, huh B?" She looked up into the sky, the bottle dangling comfortably from her hand, her posture completely relaxed._

_"Yeah, Faith. This is what it's like."_

_There was something about the way a sunset looked. No matter how many times you saw it on a calendar, or on a desktop background, or somewhere else cheesy and overdone – you could never stop noticing it. You couldn't help taking that one extra second to let the image sink in, to really _feel _it. Especially when it was the real thing, right in front of you. That was better than all of it. It didn't matter how many sunsets you had sat and watched before that. Every time it was captivating._

_The sun didn't offer any simple answers and neither did Buffy Summers, if you really knew her. The words may be unadorned, the phrase not dense – but the mindful listener knew this was only the case because the real answer was just too difficult to verbalize. Finding a way to simplify it was quite delicate. The simple answers were actually the most calculated of all._

_"…Do you think I could keep this?"_

_It was spoken so quietly she thought for just a moment that it was only in her mind. Buffy looked over at the other woman, who slowly turned her face to show sudden innocence, questioning; almost fear, even. She was mildly certain that no one else brought out that raw, child-like side of Faith that still existed under years of thick layers of roughness and anger._

I hope so.

* * *

Early morning really was beautiful. The way the sun appeared as it was still behind the trees, sending just the right amount at just the right angles to let you know that the rest of the world was still asleep, not chaotic just yet… You could feel like you were the only person alive, just for an hour or two.

Buffy stared out the kitchen window, a large cup of coffee cooling in her hands. Her eyes were unfocused, staring at the sunrise but not concentrated on it. It more served as a background to her thoughts, which were becoming more and more conflicting each day. It seemed every time she sat down to think – and sometimes when she didn't want to think at all, and it caught her by surprise – she was hit with a newly surfaced emotion or memory that she had managed quite well to forget about for a long time.

When Faith had left she had been amazed at how she had felt so…empty. She never really could figure out the reasons behind anything the girl did, and she shouldn't have been surprised when one day she just decided she "had" to leave. Packed her things, said her goodbyes, and the last thing Buffy remembered was her figure walking down the driveway. She had refused to let anyone drive her. They didn't even know where she was going. After that point she had vowed never to let anything Faith did affect her ever again – if she ever saw her again – and she was already breaking that vow. It pissed her off. Who was she to come in here after nearly three years and just expect everything to be better again? Expect things to be _okay? _She had no idea how Buffy felt – Buffy didn't even know how Buffy felt – and as each day went by the more irritated Buffy was. It bothered her that she could easily shake off so many things, but Faith – she could never shake.

"Oh, you're up. Good." The familiar sound of Willow's voice pushed against Buffy's thoughts and she slowly came back to the present, focusing on the sink in front of her and turning around.

"Hey." She offered a small smile.

"Morning." Willow eyed the coffee in Buffy's hands. "Is there any more of that?"

"Yeah."

After pouring a cup the other woman stood against the counter and looked over at her friend. "So I looked up information on the things that attacked you guys the other night. They typically don't attack for no reason; they like to be getting some kind of payment out of it."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "Somebody paid them?"

"I don't know, I have to do a little more research. Can you remember any other details?"

Buffy had been replaying the night's events in her head a few more times than she'd be willing to divulge to anyone. She went over it once more, intently focusing on anything she may have missed, and that was when she recalled something. Her gaze was unfocused; she was concentrating on the thought she had just figured out. "…The demons weren't attacking me." She looked straight at Willow, realization dawning over her features. "They were attacking Faith."

* * *

Surely all of hell's fury could not even compete with the blinding rage that was churning inside the demon as she stood with her back turned to the sniveling piece of garbage she had made the mistake of trusting with a situation.

"Do you remember what I told you?" Her voice was absolutely lethal. Deadly calm, deeper than it had ever seemed before. Involuntarily a quake went through the vampire, one he was grateful she did not see.

"Yes." It was so quiet he could've said nothing.

"_What?_" she snapped, all venom. She did not turn around.

"Yes." Louder this time.

"It was your last chance. I recall these words very perfectly, and I remember saying them directly to you." And suddenly he was in the air, held two feet above the ground by an inhumanly strong hand wrapped excruciatingly tight around his throat. Red eyes burned into him. "So what, pray tell, was worth dying over?" Her voice was a hiss, her face drawn into a ghastly stare.

He could not respond; her hold was too powerful. He choked. She watched him for a moment, before throwing him so forcefully into the stone wall that had he been human, he would have broken in half. As it was, he only had the strength to push himself up into a sitting position after moments of disorientation. If this was the game, then he would damn sure let his voice be heard. He was no coward.

"That stupid bitch," he gasped out, blood staining his lip. He glared up at the woman before him. "She thought she could take her from me. NO ONE takes from me! Especially Slayers. She needed to be taken care of. I'm not going to let her fuck with me. Even if it meant I'd get a spanking." He grinned in twisted amusement. "I wanted revenge."

"Well I hope it was worth it." An angry, large, fiery light appeared between her hands, and without hesitation she promptly hurtled it towards him; but by the time it hit and thoroughly scorched the wall where he had been, he was gone.

* * *

"Today is a bad day," Willow announced as she walked into the study.

Buffy looked up from her seat in one of the leather chairs. She tried her best fake cheery tone. "Show some optimism, Wills!"

Willow shook her head. "I just have a bad feeling about today. Something feels…off." She sat down.

"Well… I have coffee… I had yummy food of the breakfast variety… I'm – moderately relaxed… I'd say so far today feels pretty good." She offered a smile.

"Yeah, well, let's hope so."

Buffy's face took on a slightly more serious expression as she broached the topic she hadn't brought up in a few days. She looked at the floor, the trim, and all other manners of things down below where Willow's face was as she spoke slowly and hesitantly. "Did you, um – figure out anything about those demons that attacked Faith?"

Willow started, not expecting the question. "Oh, yeah… I didn't find much, only that from the description you gave me they're generally only used to do another demon's dirty work." She paused, the only logical conclusion reaching Buffy without her even having to say it. "If the demons were only attacking Faith like you said, that means someone sent them after her."

"Buffy!" Before she could contemplate what her friend had told her, the sound of her younger sister's voice penetrated the room. She perked her head up toward the door. The teenage girl practically ran into the room, beaming, dragging a not quite as enthused Faith behind her. Buffy noticeably shifted in her seat, tensing just slightly. "You have to see this trick Faith just taught me! It's the coolest thing!" She pulled the older woman forward beside her, pulling on her sleeve. "Show her!"

"Well, it's really not that amazing…"

"Come on, just do it!"

As Faith was reaching into her pocket, acutely aware of the set of eyes in the room practically burning into her, there was an obnoxious, sudden crackling in the air that made Dawn jump and Faith automatically fall into a fighting stance, pushing the girl behind her. Buffy had leapt up from her chair, assuming a similar position, and Willow was sitting up, alert. All eyes were focused on the area of the room where they could hear, and now see, something entering out of the air.

Faith could have died. It was the fucking demon woman again. She looked almost livid, nothing like the other encounters Faith had had with her. She wondered what had happened to make her lose her charm. _Maybe I'll make it through this time with my sanity intact. That would be fantastic. _She swallowed her thoughts as the woman's eyes locked onto her. Had she even bothered to look at anyone else in the room? Faith suddenly felt like an ant under a magnifying lens.

"Who are you?" Buffy asked, bold and confident as always. The woman slowly, so slowly, turned her head to look at the slayer, smiling wickedly in a way that made Buffy almost want to take a step back. Almost.

"I'm a friend of Faith's." Her smile got bigger as she turned back to the other woman. "Isn't that right?" There was the demon she had been expecting.

Faith fixed her with her most revolted expression, baring her teeth as her lip came up in a silent snarl. Her eyes bore heated hate into the creature before her, who only gave back amusement – and anticipation.

That was all Willow needed to make the connection. Her eyes widened as she instantly realized that this woman was the demon they had been researching for over a month. She had been right – the demon was after Faith. She kept her mouth closed, however, already quite aware of the woman's temper and knowing nothing she could say would probably aid the situation in a positive way. Dawn, behind Faith, moved back towards Willow.

Buffy was about to speak again, but Faith cut her off, addressing the woman before her through gritted teeth. "What do you want?"

"You and I both know the answer to that, Faith." Her smile slowly faded, leaving behind a smoldering, concentrated stare. The complete need, the rage, was glaringly evident. In that moment, Faith didn't know if she had ever felt so sought after in her life.

"I already told you. How many times do you have to be rejected before you get it?"

At first Buffy was more than slightly confused, watching the exchange between the two women. Clearly this woman was evil, but who was she? How did Faith know her? How did she not know about this until now, when Faith had been living in her house for more than a month? Not that they had talked extensively or anything, but still… This seemed a tad bit important, the kind of thing you might want to let people know about in case, you know, the evil bitch decides to barge into your study and have a showdown.

The woman's gaze intensified, if possible. "People don't reject me. Some just fight longer before they give in."

_Oh. _Now Buffy knew who she was. The sudden wave of multiple, rather large realizations that hit her was almost more than she could handle. …_Shit. _

"Well that's just dandy, but ya see, I'm not people, you've already tried more than enough, and you don't have anything that I want. So why don't you just go find someone else to fuck with, because you're not gettin' me." She stood erect, sure, steady.

Buffy felt a spark of pride at Faith's words; her clear and confident battle against the evil trying to coerce her. It was a beautiful example of how she had left her old self behind in a giant crater out in the desert. She felt something stirring within her at the sight, something on which she couldn't quite put her finger or even focus on, given the situation at hand.

"Are you sure about that?" the woman asked, a sly grin appearing on her face. She stepped closer to Faith, who didn't budge. "You sure I don't have anything you want?"

Faith moved her face in close, never breaking eye contact. To anyone else, the entire room had evaporated around them and her only focus was the woman in front of her. "Positive."

The demon laughed, and Buffy wanted to punch a hole through her face. One more minute of this and she wouldn't be able to contain herself any longer.

"What if I offered you power?" Her voice was like velvet, rolling over Faith in a way that she hated but couldn't resist. Her eyes unwillingly sparked at the word, before she quickly hid any emotion away. But it was too late; it had been seen. "I knew that would entice you. Don't you know? It's what you've wanted all along. To be able to do whatever you want – to feel however you want, or not to feel… It's your choice. You can get rid of all that nastiness inside you, or you can make others feel it too…"

"_Enough!_" Buffy suddenly shouted, moving forward a few steps in her fury. She couldn't stand here and just watch this. She was quickly thrown back into the chair behind her, however, with a flick of the demon's wrist. Willow and Dawn moved closer to her, watching the demon warily.

"Sit." The woman fixed Buffy with a steely, frightening look, before turning back to Faith, who had finally broken the staring match to look at the other slayer. "Faith. Look at me," the woman said. Faith looked. Why was she looking? _Look somewhere else. NOW._ Her brain functions clearly weren't cooperating with her brain signals. "I know what you want. I know what you _need. _Why do you think I chose you?" She leaned in again, her voice dropping. Faith managed to move at least her gaze away, fixed on nothing. "You have so much power already. Imagine what you could do with the power _I _could give you. You would be unstoppable. Untouchable. No one could hurt you. You could do whatever you wanted…" She paused, looking over the other woman's face. Faith was imperceptibly shaking. "Don't you want that?" Faith locked eyes with her.

Everyone in the room – minus the demon – jumped as the door unexpectedly burst open, and Xander flew in brandishing a very large, angry-looking sword. It was incredibly sharp, the pointed end glinting as he flung it about. He pointed it at the woman.

"I think you ought to be leaving now." He stared her down with his one good eye, unblinking, full of assurance – somewhat.

She laughed at him. "You couldn't even swing that piece of metal close enough to nick me."

He steadied his voice. "You wanna bet? I've gotten pretty damn good with this thing." He didn't falter or take his eyes off of her.

The woman spared him another second's glance before looking back at Faith, holding her gaze for several long seconds. She smiled devilishly. "We'll meet again." And with that, she was gone. A small trace of black smoke was all that marked the place where she stood. Faith resisted the urge to crumple.

Buffy looked over at Willow. "Yeah, I'd say you were right about today."


	20. Chapter Nineteen

It had been only an hour or so, what felt like minutes to some and eons to others – specifically ones who had just been through their own mental version of torture. Regrouping and discussing was difficult, as Buffy had spent a good portion of time ranting while Faith had slumped down into a chair and gone comatose, staring out at nothing. No one bothered her for the most part, even Xander being aware enough of what she had probably just gone through. Dawn had disappeared after a quick strangled sentence about going to her room, and Willow was busy trying to get a word in any time her best friend stopped to take a breath. Buffy was determined to fix this.

The kitchen table glinted in the sun beneath Cordelia's laptop as she sat typing away at something. _I can't believe I need to write this crap down for him… _

"Cordelia."

She looked up from what she was doing to see Buffy sitting across from her, looking rather stern. Focused. She wanted something. "Yes?"

"We need your help."

She smiled. _Finally. _"Of course you do. I was waiting for you to ask." There was a hint of mockery in her voice.

"Have you gotten any dreams or visions lately?"

She looked away in pseudo thought. "Well, I've had dreams… There was this one with Antonio Banderas, only he had the body of a horse…" She shook her head. "That was a weird one."

"Cordy. Please." She could hear the anxiety in the other woman's voice.

Cordelia knew what had just occurred, even though she had not been present. (She had been let in on the event before it was too late to stop it anyway). On any other occasion, she would have drawn this out to her heart's content, having all kinds of fun teasing and tormenting Buffy with the things she didn't know. As it was, she couldn't help herself from poking just a little – after all, she hadn't gotten much of a chance to yet. "We both know you wanna know if I've had any visions about Faith. Maybe about _you_ and Faith." She grinned knowingly, her tone playful.

Buffy's tone was dangerous. "Cordelia…"

She wasn't fazed. "You know, you would be very surprised if I told you about some of the visions I've been getting in the past few months." She looked the other woman dead in the eye and nodded as she said the words. "Very. Surprised."

Her curiosity got the better of her and she stopped giving the evil eye for a moment. "Is it anything I need to know?"

Cordelia grinned ridiculously. "No. Just funny-time for my brain." God, she was enjoying this way too much.

Buffy's face quickly fell into that of one not amused. "So you haven't gotten anything that could help us with the demon?"

"She-bitch? No, nothing that'll help you stop her. I guess the Fates are deciding there are other things that are more important." Her eyes lit up.

Buffy sighed. "Okay, thanks." She got up, somewhat defeated, and turned to leave.

"Oh, Buffy – "

She turned, hopeful. "Yeah?"

Cordelia seemed to shake her head at herself. "…Nothing."

The blonde shot her a strange look before walking away.

* * *

"So X-Man, where'd you get the sword?" Faith had found herself once more after a very long time of playing Coma. She felt less like she wanted to upchuck, which was a good thing. As a result, the other occupants of the room had relaxed somewhat as well.

"It's from down in the training room. I heard what was going on in the study and figured I'd um…risk my life and good health running in here with a sword." He smiled weakly. "Hey, it worked, didn't it?"

Faith grinned at him, amused.

"Yeah, well, something tells me she wasn't so much scared by the sword as she just decided she'd come back another time," Buffy announced as she walked purposefully back into the room.

"Well, way to boost the confidence there, Buff."

She looked at him apologetically. "Sorry. You were great, with your – sword swinging." She smiled.

"I thought you looked like you knew what you were doing," Willow offered gently.

"Thanks."

She turned to Buffy. "Did Cordelia tell you anything?"

"No. She said she hasn't had any visions that would help us." She paused as she remembered the other woman's secrecy. There was definitely something Cordelia wasn't telling her. _You could've asked. She wanted you to. _"And we know nothing new about the demon? Or the demons that attacked Faith?"

The redhead shrugged. "Nothing really left to find out. I've done so much research I think I've filled my quota for the next millennium. Hopefully they're connected somehow to her, and taking care of her will take care of them too. At this point it seems like the only thing we can do is sit around until she comes back."

"Great," Faith said sarcastically.

Buffy looked around. "So the question is… When is she going to strike again?"

* * *

Cordelia stood in the living room, talking into her cell phone. She did not sound enthused. "Yeah. …Yeah, that's all. …Well," she rolled her eyes, "for now. …Mhm. …Okay." She smiled with potent sarcasm at something that was said on the other line. "I have to say, I really am learning to love these little chats. …Bye." She hung up in time to see Faith give her a look before heading out the door.

* * *

The moon seemed especially bright that night, as if it felt there was something it needed to work extra hard to illuminate. It almost made the cemetery look…bright. If that was ever possible. Cemeteries weren't bright. They were dark. And scary. And they always seemed to be the location of some sort of pain.

"So what do you think Cordelia's not telling us?" Faith kept her senses alert, yet still completely focused on the woman beside her. It was twice as hard to appear nonchalant. But then again, she had a lot of practice.

"What do you mean?"

The brunette shrugged. "With all the 'secret visions' she has and those phone calls she makes."

Clearly Faith wanted to talk about this to avoid talking about anything else. Buffy looked off into the distance and shrugged as well, knowing full well the subject of the 'secret visions' but planning never to discuss them, or even think about them, especially not with Faith. And she wasn't going to indulge her methods of deflection. "Don't know. She likes to lord things over people though. Makes her feel happy."

"Won't make me feel happy if I'm in any of those visions." Faith had a knack for figuring things out without realizing she had figured them out.

An awkward silence fell over the pair, extending itself until Buffy couldn't take it anymore. It was about time they had a real conversation. Faith wasn't going to be the one with the nerve, so that only left her. She wasn't sure if she had planned for this, but she felt it needed to happen. She steeled herself. "Look, Faith… We haven't talked about what happened the other day, and I know you want to avoid it, but – "

"Buffy."

Nothing could've prepared her.

The other woman had stopped walking and was now looking her directly in the eyes, deliberate and sure. "I'm not gonna lie to you. For a second – a really fast, really short second – I liked what she was tellin' me. It sounded like something I wanted. It… It was like, it awakened this _thing _inside of me, that I haven't felt in so long, years, and…" She paused to grasp for words. "It was like good and bad and fucking frightening all at the same time. I didn't like how it felt… But at the same time, it seemed almost – easy. Like I could just take whatever she was offering, and then all this shit that I feel – " her voice broke as emotion welled up inside her, " – all the time – would go away. I've tried so hard to make it go away. But it never does. And – and maybe that's part of my punishment or something, you know? Part of what I have to go through because of all the things I did. And every time she tried to get me to take it something in me knew that it wasn't right. That I couldn't, and – I actually felt…" she groped at the air as if reaching for the word, unsure if she should take it – "proud of something that I did." She was now looking at the ground, all confidence lost, trying desperately not to break down. Her eyes were so glassy they looked like orbs.

Buffy was stunned. She took in the sight before her – this woman so changed, once so feral and now so vulnerable and raw before her. She was completely unprotected; totally and utterly open. It washed over her like a forgotten memory, like something she felt was so precious she didn't know if she would be allowed to have it. It touched Buffy in a way she had never even fathomed before. "Faith…" She reached out in what felt like slow motion to touch her face, then stopped, as if realizing what she was doing – and then slowly, so very slowly, continued until she grazed the skin of Faith's chin. Faith flinched, relaxing only slightly, almost painfully, as Buffy gently brought her face up.

"You have no idea how proud of you I am." She immediately read the awe emanating from the other woman; her eyes wide, literally shining with amazement and gratitude, to a point indescribable. "When I watched you stand up to her, show her how much you've changed, who you truly are, and how _strong _you are… I knew something was different." She paused. "You were different. After you came back to Sunnydale, it was obvious you weren't the same girl we had known before – but I still wasn't convinced. …Can you blame me?" Faith's eyes flicked to the ground for a moment. "But… Seeing you firsthand, thrown up against the biggest temptation there is…" She held Faith's gaze, making sure the other woman was looking at her. "I believe in you, Faith. I…" …_trust you._

Faith, utterly petrified of what she thought Buffy was about to say, cut her off. "You know what?" She forced a chuckle which sounded horribly strained, taking a step back and trying to compose herself even though her voice wavered. "I think that's enough gut-spilling for one night."

Buffy kept eye contact with her. "It doesn't have to be like this, you know. We can – "

" – bake cookies? I've been jonesing for some snickerdoodles." She couldn't handle any more. She had no idea what had possessed her to open herself up like that in the first place, and she couldn't bear to feel any more of this – not now.

"I'm here for you. If you need me."

The amount of emotion on Faith's face at those words was startling. It brought Buffy down to earth.

"…I've never made cookies at midnight. I think this will be a first." She threw her arm over Faith's shoulders and they made their way out of the cemetery.

* * *

_**Europe  
**__**2004**_

_There was a musk in the air, thick and unidentifiable to most. A layer of darkness covered everything; a single light from up in the ceiling was the only illumination inside the warehouse. It shone down eerily as if it had a mind of its own; as if it knew exactly what it should be focused on._

_A man hung from heavy chains, wrapped tight and holding him up in the air by his wrists. Blood stuck to the sides of his face and neck, stained his shirt, glistened as it mixed with sweat. He was fresh. Just released from prison. They could smell him._

_There weren't many; after all, the more powerful the demon, the less followers he actually needed. Too many just got irritating. For tonight, he had only chosen a few to accompany him. Ones like this were always his favorite._

_He leisurely walked up to the man, his heavy boots thumping slowly. "Oh, Marcus. You're a very bad man, aren't you?" The man glared at him. "Five people you murdered. It was five, wasn't it? Well, who knows nowadays, right? You could have lots of hidden secrets anywhere!" He laughed, getting very close to the man's face, his voice low. "Hidden bodies. Buried deep in only places you know." Pause. "Were there more?" Still no response. The demon turned away from him and began to walk in a slow circle around him. "I have such a hard time believing it, Marcus. I mean, look at you. You don't look like a bad guy. You look all right." He shrugged. "I wouldn't think twice if I passed you on the street. I bet a lot of people didn't know, did they?" Up in his face again, barely whispering, taking his time. "Like your wife?" Marcus visibly reacted, his breathing speeding up and his eyes cutting into the monster in front of him. "She didn't think you were so bad, did she? You loved her… Didn't you?" He walked away again. "But that didn't stop you from killing all those people. Didn't stop the blood from getting all over you, the sin, that stench that you just can't scrub off no matter how much you try."_

_A young woman stood among those watching, silent, dark. Blending. Crumbling. _

"_I did my time. It's not like that anymore."_

_The demon turned back abruptly. "Oh! And how is it like?" He stared fiercely at the man. "I'm waiting." He held his hand to his ear. "Marcus!" A shout, somewhere between angry, evil and teasing. Sick. "Marcus! Come on, man! Communicate with me! Work a little bit, huh? What's it like?" He was frightening._

Keep it together.

_The man looked at him through glassy eyes, whispering in a broken voice. "You're fucking evil. You don't know what it's like. You don't have a soul."_

_Now his voice was back to a regular speaking tone, his face deadpan. Underneath lay an alarming layer of malice. It was chilling. "And you do?" He paused, shrugging. "Tell me, Marcus, if you have a soul and I don't, how come we both kill people?" No response. "How come we can both take life from a being and not feel any remorse?"_

Don't let it in. Don't let it win.

_He was still whispering. Broken. "I do. I do feel remorse. I regret…everything I've done…"_

_The demon smiled sickeningly, coming close again and grabbing onto Marcus's chains, swinging him a little with his weight. Amused. "Oh, come on. You're just sayin' that cause you're chained to the ceiling!" He laughed. "How can I believe anything you say? The same way you can't believe anything I say. Isn't that right? Cause you don't get that privilege anymore. You don't get to have anyone believe you. You don't get to have anyone love you." He dropped his voice lower, looking him straight in the eyes. "Look at all the horrible things you've done. How could anyone ever really trust you?"_

_Faith was outside on the pavement, throwing up. She never stuck around to find out what happened._

* * *

Willow entered the living room hastily, searching with her eyes for the girl she found sitting on the couch. She had no time for pleasantries. "Something big is about to happen."

Buffy looked up at her, her mouth full of yogurt. "Wha?"

The other woman seemed incredibly anxious. "Right now. Something is about to happen right now."

Buffy swallowed her mouthful and got up, shutting off the television and moving into the kitchen. She dumped the cup and the spoon blindly into the sink. "Do I have time to get pretty?"

There was no mistaking Willow's tone. "No time for jokes. I think she-devil is pissed, and on her way. I can feel it."

Buffy grew serious, her face drawing into one of resolve. "Go get Faith and meet me in the training room. Tell all the girls in the house to stay in their rooms."

* * *

Buffy paced, weapons in hand. She had grabbed the nastiest looking thing she could find and was hoping it would do enough damage. She really didn't have any idea at this point if it would, but it sure seemed like it would be a good place to start. She had had enough after the last encounter; she would make sure this was the last.

Faith and Willow came running down the stairs, shutting the door behind them.

Faith took in the room. "I take it she's not here yet."

Buffy locked eyes on her, steady and determined. "Make ready whatever weapons you can. I don't know how to kill this bitch but I'm going to damn well try whatever works." Her gaze shifted to the other woman. "Willow, anything you can do will help."

She nodded. "On it."

Faith took the second nastiest looking weapon – since Buffy had taken the first – and stuck a few knives in her waistband, along with an axe in her other hand. All three women stood in the middle of the room, alert. Ready. Waiting.

Faith's hair was practically standing up. "All right, super bitch, where are you?"

She was answered a few moments later by a blast that knocked her off her feet, sending her flying across the room. Close to where she had been standing an exaggerated whirlwind of sorts appeared, windy and electric, spinning until the demon stood in its place in its familiar form.

Buffy immediately lunged at it, and Willow began chanting. As soon as she began she was stopped, however, by the demon sending her across the room as well, knocking her out as she hit the wall on the other side. Faith was up again by this point and running full force toward the demon, who had returned her attention to battling Buffy.

She swung her axe mightily at the demon, missing just barely as it moved inhumanly out of the way, Buffy rolling with the movement to keep up. She bounced up onto her feet and delivered a quick, severe wound to the demon's stomach with her weapon, but it seemed to do little damage and barely slowed it down. Faith went to swing again and was knocked back. She was getting angrier and more crazed by the minute, determined to get rid of this thing that had been tormenting her for so long. She felt something welling up inside of her, and though she was partially blinded by her hatred and rage toward this creature the more she fought the more she started to feel like something was off; something was different.

She used the strange feeling and fed off of it, attacking with full force as passionately as she could, using what felt like all of her strength, and she could tell the same was happening for Buffy. Maybe it was all the emotions that had been flying around the past few months, maybe it was how much they hated this demon – maybe it was a combination of both – but both women were a complete flurry of might and fury. There was no stopping them.

Until Faith realized something.

It hit her harder than any of Buffy's punches ever had.

This was it.

This was the vision she had seen in that shitty hotel room, the one that had prompted her to come blitzing back across the world.

The realization stopped her in her tracks, in the middle of attacking, without even thinking, as she stared at the image in front of her, taking in absolutely everything about the moment as her memory recalled it like the answer to a million dollar question. The feel of the floor beneath her, the surrounding room, the lights, Willow passed out near the wall, the motions of Buffy and the demon before her, the way they moved, the weight of her own body and the weapons she held – the feeling of her heart stopping as she realized what was coming next.

She didn't have much time to react. She knew the procession of events; she had seen them, and they had been burned into her brain. Buffy had injured the demon by this point, and had managed to throw it back across the room. She stepped back, hands up, preparing herself. The look on her face. The tilt of her head. The way the light hit her.

This was the moment it was supposed to happen.

This is what it had all boiled down to; this was what her purpose was; this was why she had met that man in that bar, why she had been shown the vision. It had to happen. There was no stopping it.

_Would've been nice if I had been given a little more warning._

But there was no time to grieve; she had to act.

And she did, without much thought. All of this occurred in about 10 seconds, and she vaulted herself at full speed across the room, shouting Buffy's name in a strangled way that she never had before and pulling the other woman violently towards her. An immense energy ball, in another time and place meant to kill, passed through the space she had occupied not one moment before. Faith could feel the intense heat all but scorch her, but it was nothing. She faintly registered the sound of the wall catching fire and splintering, but it was nothing. Because the moment she had moved Buffy out of the way she found herself pressed against the other woman in a way she had only ever imagined before, her mouth fiercely against hers, and all of reality came to hazy halt as it became a dream.

The moment was broken by the intense, outraged scream of the demon, a terribly nightmare sound that reverberated throughout the entire property. The two women were ripped back down to earth and immediately fell back into position, getting ready to begin battling once more, but the demon disappeared in a whirlwind greater than what had brought it there, its scream of rage echoing in their ears.

There was a stunned moment of silence where Willow, now conscious, stared in shock at what she had just witnessed, and it took the two slayers an extra few moments to come back up to speed and match their bodies with their thoughts.

_I'm not dead…_

Faith stared at Buffy, who stared back. There was a dead, heavy silence as the two were almost suspended in time, unable to look away or make any movement. She was shaken and bewildered that she still existed and that this was indeed reality and not a dream or a vision. It had happened.

Then she jumped back as if burned.

"Um – "

"No."

"Faith…"

The other woman looked absolutely petrified. "Buffy… I – "

If she knew what she was going to say, she didn't get to finish. All that came out was a grunt of pain as a blade came flying out of nowhere into her stomach. She looked down at it in shock as Buffy's expression turned to devastation. All three women looked up to see Asher standing a few yards away.

He grinned. "Buffy, baby. Did you miss me?"


	21. Chapter Twenty

Buffy allowed herself a few seconds of panic, looking between Faith and Asher, making sure the other slayer was still alive, before rage overtook every other thing she was feeling and she rounded on the vampire. Her guilt was momentarily forgotten by her immediate anger and shock. Faith had been right all along, and she hadn't listened to her – and now look what had happened.

She didn't say anything, instead just running full force at him. He stood and waited, amused, until she knocked him down hard and started punching wildly at him in fury. A few shots landed, but he deflected most of them, laughing.

"You fucking – _asshole_ – "

He kicked her off of him and stood up, licking blood from his mouth. "No need for name-calling, sweetheart. Since my other attempts failed, I figured, you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself."

She looked at him incredulously, enraged with herself for having been so stupid and misled by her own insecurities. "You sent those demons after Faith. You've been after her this whole time."

He laughed again. "It really took you until now to figure it out? You disappoint me, Buffy. I honestly thought you were smarter than that, being a slayer and all."

"Yeah, well, you know, experiences like this, they merely serve as a reminder of why I do what I do – and why I'm so damn good at it." She whipped around with superhuman speed, bringing her foot into hard contact with his face and sending him flying toward the wall.

She heard chanting from behind her. Willow was conscious again. An orb of energy flew past her heading for Asher, but he dove out of the way and it singed the wall instead. She wanted to check on Faith but knew she had no chance to do so; she had to end this, now. Especially now. She pushed her concern down and used it to gather strength and determination against the threat in front of her.

Another energy ball flew toward him, but he spun out of the way and fixed his gaze on Willow. "Stupid witch." He ran towards her, but Buffy quickly cut in front of him and threw him into the wall with such force that he was airborne for a moment before colliding with the cement. She marched over to him and pulled him up, socking him in the face before he grabbed her and managed to flip her over his shoulder, where she hit the ground ungracefully. He rounded on her as she started to get up, but before he could do anything else he was stopped by a stake being jammed forcefully into his chest. He looked over in shock.

Faith got very close to his face, a look of grim satisfaction on her snarling lips. Her voice came out low and menacing, almost a growl. "I really, _really _enjoyed that." She ripped the stake out as he crumbled into dust. She turned to Buffy, holding the fresh wound on her stomach. She tossed the stake onto the floor. "Seriously. Cut the shit with the vampires."

* * *

Faith hadn't had bandages on her wound for more than a few hours. She sat at the window of Buffy's bedroom, staring out at the countryside as the sun set beyond the trees and feeling more lost and confused than ever. She was supposed to be dead. That was the whole reason she had come here. She wasn't supposed to have survived that battle. She touched her stomach, pressing down purposefully on it until she felt sharp pain. It wasn't as if she had been offering herself up like a lamb for slaughter – there was a reason behind it, a purpose for all of it, and she figured if she was going to go out any way, that would be the best way. The only way. It would've redeemed her forever. It would've made up for all the shit she did, all the harm she caused – what better way? It was probably best it had happened suddenly, because had she been aware before going into the fight, maybe she would've backed down. Maybe she would've lost her nerve, or let fear ruin it all. But she didn't have time to. And it seemed to have worked out even better than she hoped for… Right?

Yet here she was, not redeemed, not on any kind of higher plane, still stuck with pain inside and outside that she was afraid she would never get rid of. She pushed on her wound again, this time harder, feeling a spot of blood soak through. She felt chained to the earth and bound to all of her mistakes.

Her ears registered the sound of the door opening but her mind didn't register what it meant for a few moments longer, still caught up in its own bewildering mess. Her head turned sharply, knowing only one person would enter the bedroom without knocking.

Buffy closed the door behind her and walked over to the other woman. "Hey."

Faith returned her gaze to the window. "Hey." A new discomfort quickly flowered inside her stomach, not at all attached to the wound. Her throat grew tight.

Buffy was standing very close to her. She looked down at her midsection. "I'm sorry."

Faith looked at her, straight in the eye. "For what?"

"You were right about Asher. I should've listened to you."

She turned away again, feigning her usual indifference, trying desperately to block herself off because she knew what Buffy really came in here to talk about. And she wasn't ready to deal with it. "Yeah, well, I've gotten used to people taking what I say less than seriously." She shrugged, her face unreadable.

Buffy sighed, a tired, sad sigh. She sat down next to Faith, watching to see if it was okay. Faith didn't move or even look at her. Buffy opened her mouth to say something, but found she couldn't think of what to say. Everything that wanted to form on her tongue she knew would be useless, worn-out and pathetic like every other time she felt guilty over Faith and tried to cover up her own mistakes. She knew what she had come here to talk about, and even she was over her own inability to just broach an uncomfortable topic. A very long silence passed during which she mentally prepared herself as best she could. Then – "Why did you kiss me?"

Inside, Faith's stomach had exploded, her bandage had popped off and her guts spilled out all over the place, without any hope of ever putting them back in. She felt like she was on fire. Her palms were slick with sweat and she was now severely focusing on a patch of trees very far away, feeling the sides of her eyes burning where she knew Buffy sat staring at her waiting for an answer. But outside, she merely shrugged and kept her voice excruciatingly even. "Seemed like the thing to do."

Buffy looked at her incredulously. It had taken her so much strength, so much inner talking-to, to come up here and talk to Faith about this and that was all she could say? After everything that had happened between them – before Sunnydale and after, her almost dying because of this demon and Faith taking a knife to the gut, and that's all she could come up with? _What does that even __**mean?**_ "Bullshit."

This got Faith's attention. She looked straight at her and arched her eyebrow just slightly, just enough that Buffy noticed. "Tell me how you really feel, B." There was the slightest undercurrent of sarcasm.

Buffy was tired of this game. She was tired of dancing around the real issues, never getting what she actually wanted out of Faith and letting herself get sucked in to her games of deflection. Because what Faith had done had breached the very delicate bubble that they sealed themselves in; it had pretty much popped it. And there was no going back now. "You're not going to sit there and play your little routine of not giving a shit about anything, because you obviously do. You're not a coward on the outside, try not acting like one on the inside. I've been honest with you, so I'd appreciate the same respect. Don't waste my time or yours."

Faith's mask of indifference fell away to reveal anger, another familiar emotion. But she stopped herself from blurting out the first thing that came to her mind, trying to temper herself. _You're a big girl now. Won't do any good to keep acting like the child you were. _Her jaw twitched as she clenched her teeth. Her wound stung. "Why didn't you listen to me? I told you he was bad news, but you didn't even wanna hear it. After all this time and you still act like my opinion means nothing."

Buffy looked away and sighed. There was a moment before she spoke. "…I've been lonely, Faith. He was around. He didn't try to kill me. It was kind of like the Spike thing, only…just the sex part. Something inside me – needed it." She paused. "And then you showed up and everything became a mess like it always does, and I guess…I just wanted proof before I gave that up."

Faith stared at her for a second, processing. "Here's your proof." She lifted up her shirt to show her bloody bandage. Buffy looked down guiltily. "And I'm not just anyone, B. I'd hoped by now you could at least somewhat believe what I say to you."

"How can I? Everything you say to me that I'm supposed to take seriously is a bunch of crap most of the time, and you know it. All you ever do is cover up how you really feel with some smart remark or comeback, and I'm supposed to either lay down and take it or keep fighting you, I can never figure out which one you want. But either way I never win, and you never open up, and how can I trust you when you won't let me?"

It hurt and angered Faith at the same time to realize that Buffy had a point. If she wanted her trust, she had to stop putting up a front over even the smallest things. What had happened earlier, however, was not a small thing, and she was terrified of handling it, mostly because she hadn't thought she would live long enough to have to. She stood, needing distance, walking a few steps away and turning to face the other woman. "I worked for your trust for so long, B, and then I fucked it. Big time. And when I came back, I wanted to work for it again, so I tried, but I always had that weight hangin' over me and I felt like I would never be able to get rid of it, no matter what I did. It's my own issues. I got enough of 'em to go around." She paused. "I want your trust, but I don't wanna get mine broken."

"You don't trust me."

"I don't trust _anyone._" _But I want to trust you._

"Trust is a two-way street, Faith. You can't expect other people to open up to you and not give the same in return. I can't believe everything you say if you give me no reason to."

For some reason, even though Buffy's tone was gentle, this sparked something inside Faith. "No reason to? I haven't given you _any _reason to believe me?" She scoffed. "I went to _JAIL. _I sat behind those bars for _three years_ feeling sorry and awful for what I had done, thinking about _you, _and trying to figure out how I would make up for all the things I did. Do you know what it's like to spend three years of your life being reminded daily when you wake up just how much of a fuck-up you are by the bars on your window? I handed myself in because I hoped that one day, I'd be a better person and learn how to apologize, be able to _prove _that I was changed. And then I came back and I helped you save the goddamn world, and didn't fall off the wagon _once, _and all you can use against me is that you're mad I left. And you can't find it anywhere in you to put an ounce of stock in the idea that I might _care_ about – " She stopped herself abruptly before she said the last word, but then realized that that was the exact thing Buffy was calling her on, and continued angrily, throwing her hands in the air. "About _you!_"

Buffy let the words sink in. Then she stood, pointing at her own chest. "And you don't think I care? You don't think I spent the last _two and a half years _wondering where you were, what you were doing, if you were even _alive?"_

"We both know I wasn't dead, B," Faith interjected.

Buffy cut through the air with her hand. "Not the point. Every time you're around, when you left and when you came back and the whole time you've been here it's like I'm riding a roller coaster, and I can't get off whenever I want to, and I wanna hurl." Faith looked insulted. "Not like that." She made motions with her hands as if she was trying to pull something out of herself, unable to find words. "Even when you were gone, I was still connected to you. I had strange dreams, a-and I just…"

"Listen, clearly you're not as skilled as you think you are at this whole saying-how-you-feel thing. If you want me to leave, I'm gone."

Buffy looked exasperated. "That's not what I _said, _Faith!" She looked away. "_God, _you're infuriating!"

Faith's expression instantly hardened. "Yeah, I'm aware I piss you off daily. Remind me why I came back here again?"

"Why don't _you _remind _me, _because I'm pretty sure you still haven't told any of us why you decided to stroll back in here like you just got back from vacation in the Bahamas."

Faith's patience was paper thin – like tissue paper thin – but still she managed to quell the part of her that wanted to admit to Buffy the truth behind her reappearance. Here, in the midst of this, with all the conflicting emotions she was feeling, she couldn't. It didn't feel right. And she was too on edge to run the risk of getting even more wounded by any of the other slayer's possible reactions. But if she gave her usual smartass remark, Buffy would win the fight and she'd once again be the angry jackass who couldn't open up to anyone. There had to be a halfway point. "Look, I know you're mad. And you have a right to be. I left. I walked out. We – things were getting better between us, and I fucked it all up like I always do." She mentally cursed herself when she heard her voice crack, just barely. "And I don't really know how I'm gonna take that anger away from you, B, because I don't think anything could except time." _Where did _that _come from? _"Time is what helped me deal with a lot of my anger."

If she had hopes to move the other woman, they were dashed quite quickly. "Don't even compare the two. You had _rage_. Rage that was connected to a lot of things I'll never understand. And we both know it's not entirely gone. _I_ was _angry _because you left me alone, without any explanation, feeling like I did something wrong."

_You did._

"How exactly did I leave you alone?"

Buffy opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out for a few seconds. She seemed caught off-guard. It was such a loaded question. "You… We were mending, Faith, and I thought…" She shook her head, trying to shake away the emotion before it could take up too permanent a residence.

Faith took a step closer to her. "…What?"

Buffy locked eyes with her, disclosing everything she couldn't say.

"Tell me, Buffy," she urged, her entire body tensing. Her eyes bore into the other woman's. She unconsciously moved closer. The air between them was heavy with the weight of all the things left undone and unsaid. Years of pain and missed possibilities.

Buffy's face pleaded, on the brink of tears. Her voice came out like a sob. "I can't."

Before Faith could protest, the other woman ran past her and out of the room.

* * *

The rain beat down on the ground as if the oceans themselves were pouring out over every inch of the earth. A flash of lighting illuminated the night sky and the face of the brunette as she marched purposefully down the sloping hill, her hair and clothes clinging to her. When she reached the flat clearing at the bottom she stopped, planting both feet firmly into the soaked grass and raising her face to the sky.

"_Hey! _I know you can hear me!" A sudden crack of thunder sounded so violently it was as if the heavens were going to rip in two. "Where the fuck are you, you bitch?"

She was answered by another crack, this time in the air before her.

The demon's dark eyes glistened, boring into her with a fiendish, sick glee. Knowing.

"Decided to accept my offer?"

Faith glared at her through narrowed eyes, intense and determined. Rain streamed down her face and poured off her chin as she spoke. "Damn right."

There was a deep, dark, chilling laugh that could be heard through the storm as though it were coming from all around them. Without warning, the demon put a hand on Faith's chest, and a powerful light emanated from the spot. Faith convulsed, twitching, overcome with the energy flowing into her. She felt like she was being electrified. It was painful and yet, there was something much greater beneath it that spoke of potential, of extraordinary, sweeping power. It filled her every sense. After what felt like forever it stopped, and the demon stepped back.

Faith slowly lifted her head, a satisfied smile on her face. "Thanks."


	22. Chapter Twenty One

_**Cleveland, Ohio**_

_**June – November 2003**_

_Buffy and Faith talked. They talked much more than they had ever talked before, now that they had stopped the worst apocalypse yet – together – and had less stress on their shoulders knowing there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of slayers all over the world helping them out. They had more time to think, and the more they thought the more they needed to share. Not to mention the fact that they were living in the same house, serving as a daily reminder to each other all the things they hadn't been able to realize or say. _

_Faith, one to quickly tire of someone else trying to probe her insides, surprisingly showed growth by accepting that part of their new lives was being honest and open – more than they had in the past, anyway. Or maybe it was just that now was the time it was all finally coming out. There were certainly catalysts._

_One day in particular, they had just gotten back from slaying an entire nest of Orfal demons. They were pretty heinous; each had two heads and bled an acidy concoction that could eat through flesh in a few minutes. Faith was feeling guilty, because she had almost let one take off Buffy's head in the few seconds before she realized what was about to happen and sliced the thing in half. That should've made up for the blunder, but Faith was Faith, and she was momentarily vulnerable._

"_I'm really sorry B, that almost went horrifically wrong."_

"_Key word being 'almost.' Stop apologizing Faith, I'm alive because Slayer senses kicked in and you saved me in the nick of time. No big." She shrugged, a warm expression on her face._

_Faith sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Can't help it. Guilt trips are my specialty."_

_They stopped beneath a tree on the way up to the house. The last of the fading light caught their hair, making it glow. Lightning bugs danced around them._

"_Faith." Buffy waited for the other woman to look at her, who knew she was gearing up to say something important. "You can only brood for so long. Guilt will just keep you from doing your best, which takes self-confidence and strength. Both of which I know you have." Something playful sparked in her eyes. "I'm not saying forget about the past completely, but… Grow from it."_

"_I'm trying." She paused, debating whether or not to continue. She looked at the ground. "…All the things I did to you, I know you've still gotta have some unresolved..."_ _She shook her head and looked back up, trailing off. _Or maybe that's just me.

_Buffy held her gaze, her eyes conveying depths unfathomable. She reached out as if in slow motion and gently touched Faith's face, the whisper of a caress, holding back so much more. When she spoke, her tone was impossibly soft. Almost painful. __"You have no idea how I feel."_

_Before Faith could react, she turned and walked away into the house._

* * *

_Faith brought the spear up horizontally with both hands to block the attack from Buffy. She pushed it forward, putting her weight behind it, throwing Buffy a few steps back. Faith charged forward, jabbing the spear in the direction of Buffy's mid-section. The other Slayer rolled out of the way and popped back up with another weapon in her hands that she grabbed off the training room floor. Now wielding a sword and a dagger, she spun both smugly and advanced on Faith. The younger woman backed up a few paces, waiting for Buffy to make a move and trying to figure out her plan of attack. _

_No one else was as fun to spar with._

_Buffy swung the sword in an arc to Faith's left while bringing the dagger down and up to her right, leaving her with few options. She instinctively threw herself straight down to the floor, reaching out with both hands and grabbing Buffy's ankles, yanking her down as well. She landed with a thud on her back, her arms splaying out. Faith jumped on top of her, raising the spear and pointing it down at her chest._

"_Game over, B." She grinned playfully and shifted her weight, throwing Buffy a suggestive look. She could feel the heat the other woman was giving off through her clothing._

"_I don't think so, F." Before Faith could second-guess her, Buffy brought both hands together and chopped the spear in half – twice – with both of her weapons, the spear itself sliding harmlessly off of her and onto the floor, and then flipped Faith into a forward roll over her head. She followed her, intending to gain the upper hand, but Faith quickly rolled away and stood, grabbing the shortened spear. It wasn't like Buffy to willingly break weapons during training. She must've really needed some release today._

_Buffy was on her feet and coming towards her. She felt her feet moving backward, the other Slayer's intensity making her want to acquiesce for a reason unknown to her. She felt the spear piece slowly sliding out of her suddenly slick hand and she grabbed onto it more firmly. Buffy was eyeing her intensely. _

_Faith felt her back bump into the wall and she jumped slightly. She hadn't thought it was so close. She didn't move. Buffy swiftly raised both her weapons. She felt the tip of the dagger lightly resting on her pulse point, which had quickened quite a bit, while the cool metal of the sword crossed over it and rested on her collarbone. She shivered and prayed she didn't notice._

_Sweat coated both women in a sheen as they tried to steady their breathing, and Faith's eyes flicked to the reflections from the light catching on Buffy's skin. She was very aware of her proximity, and how with every breath she took she could feel the firmness of her body. _

_She swore she felt Buffy press her thigh harder against her._

_The spear slipped out of her hand and clattered onto the floor. _

_Neither woman blinked. Their eyes were locked onto each other's. Heavy lidded. Faith opened her mouth slightly to say something, but she couldn't think of what. Buffy's grip on her weapons relaxed, and they slid slightly down Faith's skin. This time when she shivered, she knew Buffy noticed. Something changed in her look as her face came closer, painfully slow. Her breath on Faith's mouth, just barely. Every inch of skin on fire. Tense. Faith could dimly hear how ragged and shaky her breathing was, but she felt like she wasn't breathing at all. She felt the weapons slowly sliding down further, the pointed tips gently running a scorching trail down her chest to her midsection before being pulled away and joining the spear on the floor. She cursed herself for the audible, sharp intake of breath it caused. Buffy's eyes danced. Had that been deliberate? With the weapons gone, she seemed to inch closer._

_The door at the top of the stairs banged open. _

_Buffy pulled away quickly and turned._

"_If you're done, there's a more pressing matter that needs your attention," Cordelia stated, leaving the doorway and disappearing back into the house. Her laugh trailed behind her._

_Buffy threw Faith a long look, then headed up the stairs. Faith stayed against the wall for a moment, processing. She steadied her breathing. Looked around. She took a tentative step and, upon finding her legs were not entirely jelly, followed._

Fuck…

* * *

_Faith lazily flicked through the tv stations with the remote, settling further into the couch. It was late and she couldn't sleep. She sighed, contemplating getting up and going to the kitchen for food. Before she could make a decision, her eyes caught the dark form of someone coming down the stairs. It didn't take her long to realize who it was._

"_You thinkin' about food too?" Faith asked her. _

_Buffy almost looked startled, pausing for a second before joining the other woman on the couch. She didn't look at her. "…I had a nightmare."_

_Faith considered her reaction and made sure her tone was gentle. "What happened?"_

_Buffy's eyes flicked to her and then away again. "You were there. It's…hazy. I just remember… Something bad was happening." Her face got very distant._

"_Well I'm here now, and I'm fine, B." Faith tried to be reassuring, throwing a smile in the other Slayer's direction._

_Buffy looked at her, realized she was trying to help, and offered a weak smile and nod in return. "Yeah." She looked back at the tv, and there was an awkward silence. _

_Faith, though not well-versed in these types of situations, figured she could at least try to comfort her. She edged closer, and then, after taking a deep silent breath, put her arm around Buffy lightly, rubbing her back slightly. She waited._

_Much quicker than she would have imagined, the slighter woman leaned against her, seeking more consolation and allowing Faith to see a weak moment. Faith applied slightly more pressure, massaging the tension out of Buffy's back while keeping her close. There was an ease suddenly forming between them that was highly improbable – and yet it was happening. Maybe it was the hour. Maybe it was Buffy's vulnerable state. Maybe it was Faith seeing a way to play the friend card. Whatever it was, it felt warm and safe. _

_Buffy relaxed into her, allowing her to take away her anxiety. No words were exchanged. Faith continued to rhythmically rub her back while she half-sat curled up against her. She listened as her breathing became slower, heavier, and eventually she drifted back to sleep._

So this is what it feels like.

* * *

_They were having one of those moments again. Where they left the rest of the world behind and went off by themselves, finding a quiet, reflective place and just…existing. Together. To see what it felt like. Just because they wanted to. Or maybe they needed to. It was something altogether different, and they found themselves enjoying the feeling of the world blanketing them, enhanced by their slayer connection. For just a short while, no worries. No one needed anything from them. They could have peace, or something like it._

_Faith gazed out at the cotton candy clouds aflame in the light of the setting sun from the rock she lay on. "Sometimes I wish I could fly. Go wherever I wanted, you know? No one could catch me. I'd be free."_

_Buffy felt a sadness tug inside her, thinking of why Faith desired so badly to be liberated. Unbound. Released of all her pain. It was an empathy she had never felt so deeply before for the other Slayer, and she was momentarily humbled by the innermost dreams of this powerful woman beside her who simply wanted to be happy, like anyone else._

_She grabbed Faith's hand and squeezed. "You know it means a lot, right?"_

_Faith looked down in surprise, then back up. "What?"_

"_Everything you do."_

* * *

_Buffy felt miserable. Not only had she and Faith been out slaying until all hours of the night – way past the time she usually liked to be in bed by, when she had a choice in the matter – but one of the stupid ugly demons had stolen her good luck charm, or something akin to that, and left a nice welt on her shoulder. It had fallen out of her pocket in the scuffle, and before she could grab it, he had snatched it up and, after taunting her with it a little and making stupid jokes, got a solid hit right into her head and run off with it. Since when did demons care about petty theft, anyway? And, hello – super immature._

_Dawn had made it for her. It was a little wooden woman she had carved and stained herself, and she had even tried to paint the head yellow to signify blonde. She had said to keep it with her every time she went on patrol, to keep her safe and to imbue her with more strength knowing her sister's love was behind it, and it of course represented a very strong woman._

_And now that stupid demon had taken it, just to show he could. She hated evil things. They were such assholes. She went to bed tired, cranky, and wondering how she was going to tell Dawn._

_The next morning she woke with the same thoughts, and put a hand on her night table as she went to get out of bed. She felt something underneath her fingers and lifted her hand._

_The little figurine sat above a folded note, looking just as it had the night before. She picked it up, marveling at it for a moment as a sense of relief washed over her, and then picked up the note._

Knew this meant something to you… Figured the least I could do was get it back.

-Faith

_Buffy almost teared up. Faith had done something considerate, when no one asked her to. Completely unselfish. Not only that, but she must've paid close attention, because Buffy had never shown anyone what Dawn had made her. She looked at the note for a long moment, overcome with emotion, then put both gently back down where she found them and got out of bed._

* * *

_Buffy watched the other Slayer's movements as she trained from inside the house, mesmerized. She was so fluid. So strong. So precarious. Like a battle-hardened warrior who had a soft inner center that could only be seen if you looked the right way, and paid close enough attention – but you might die for your troubles._

_Giles stepped silently up to her side, sipping from his tea, eyes focused outside. "It seems Faith may shock us all."_

_She looked at him. "What do you mean?"_

_His gaze was very intent on the woman outside in the yard. "She may actually be redeemed."_

_Buffy turned her attention back outside. "That wouldn't be shocking. It would be shocking if she actually let down her defenses and _accepted _that she could even reach that point."_

_"With all the good she's done, especially since…" He trailed off, not wanting to re-open old wounds of all that they had lost. "Well, I believe that at some point she has to realize how invaluable of an asset she is, and how much more good she can still do. She truly wants to make up for her past mistakes."_

_Buffy's eyes unfocused for a moment, falling. "It's not just about that. She's a different person. It's not just her doing all of these things so that…the tally marks on the wrong side of the board will disappear. She actually _wants _to." She paused. "…She's changed. But I don't know if she'll ever forgive herself. It's what drives her."_

_The ex-watcher nodded. "Mmm." There was a comfortable silence until he spoke again. "However… One must remember that out of forgiveness often comes true liberation. And relief." With that, he walked away._

_Would she ever find relief?_

* * *

_Faith didn't mind the fact that not all of the newbie slayers liked her. She didn't mind that on frequent occasion she still felt like the world's biggest fuck-up, and that everything she did and everything she went through was payment for her wrongs. She accepted all of this. It was a part of her life, and a part of her journey toward true redemption._

_What Faith did mind was the one or two little brats who made it their own mission, whenever possible, to go out of their way to make her feel like a true piece of garbage when no one else was around. They had limited knowledge of her, who knows what they heard, and to them she might as well have been a vampire for how evil they viewed her as. Most of the time she could brush it off, but in those times when she was having a bad day or wasn't at all in the right space, it hit much closer to its intended effect. _

_One time she had been sparring with a small group of the girls, and one of them had tried to attack her from behind when they thought she wasn't paying attention. But unlike them, she was better trained and more experienced and had whipped around and grabbed hold of the weapon, pushing the girl back against the wall and trapping her behind it. Told her if she tried anything like that again, she'd be sent to another training site with some choice scars to take with her._

_Another time. Bad. Faith had gotten into a tiff with Buffy, and was in a very sour mood. She was standing outside in back of the house, smoking. It was drizzling; moist and gross. Thinking about things that just made her feel worse, and dwelling on things she knew she shouldn't. She couldn't help it. Force of habit. At that moment, anything would have bothered her._

_One of them was walking back from the woods. When she saw Faith, her calm face instantly hardened into one of malice, purposefully sending a silent statement. Faith, not in the mood in the slightest, said, "Got somethin' to say, pipsqueak?"_

"_Fuck off."_

_Faith flicked her cigarette. "You kiss your mama with that mouth?"_

_The girl got up in her face, as close as she dared. "I don't like you. I don't think you belong here. You did what you were brought to do, that's it, you're done. What more use do you have?" With that, she promptly walked inside._

_Faith felt cold._

* * *

_Buffy looked at her softly, yet intently across the table, the sunlight streaming in through the window and setting her on fire. Her eyes sparkled. Faith saw something there that she had never seen before. "You know, things could really be different for us now."_

_Faith felt something surge inside of her, a full and weightless feeling that spread from legs up through her stomach and settling in her chest. She could've wept. "You think so?"_

_She nodded, never looking away. Voice sure. Genuine smile. "Yeah."_

* * *

_Faith had had a bad dream. A bad dream about Buffy. It had felt so real. She was disoriented when she woke up, drenched in sweat, still worried to the point where something pushed her to go and check on Buffy to make sure she was all right. _

_Her heart pounded as she made her way to the other Slayer's bedroom. She turned the doorknob silently, not wanting to wake her. As the door opened to reveal the scene before her, her stomach dropped. At first she couldn't look away from Buffy's bed, as if it was some kind of horror movie in slow motion – but in a sick way meant to upset only her. Betrayal stirred painfully in her stomach. Her eyes widened, then after a moment all but froze over as her face became hard, and she turned and briskly walked away._

* * *

_Faith shoved the last article of clothing into her large duffel bag and stepped off the stairs. She had briefly discussed this with everyone already, though only just that morning – it was probably understandable they were still a little stunned, but she was too impatient to leave to give it much consideration. If she had stopped and thought, which she really didn't want to do, she might have realized that this was basically something the past version of herself would have done, but with more of an edge. She also cared a great deal for the people she was leaving behind – but she had to go. This was the only way._

"_So you're just gonna – leave? All abrupt and whatnot?" Xander said from beside her. Despite his friendly, forced half-smile, she could tell he was hurt._

_She shrugged as harmlessly as she could. "I said goodbye to everyone. It's like I said… I'm a nomad. Can't really stay in one place for too long. I gotta stretch my legs. See what good I can do elsewhere." She missed Cordelia's knowing, bored look from the other side of the room, as if she didn't put any stock into the entire situation._

"_You're sure you don't want a lift?" Giles asked._

_She nodded. "Yeah. It's cool. I don't even really know where I'm going. Just gonna…see where the road takes me, I guess." She paused and shook her head. "There's nothing I can get from this place." _Except away from it._"I'm gonna try my luck in the big bad world for a while." She opened the front door, turning and flashing a forced grin that probably only she believed. "I always did do best on my own." The door closed behind her, and she began walking down the driveway._

_Something inside Buffy exploded as her wet eyes followed Faith's retreating form._


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

Buffy had spent the entire morning in the basement, working out and training alone until she could barely move. _You're no better than her. You could've told her the truth and you didn't. Who's the coward now? _Her skin was itching from her confrontation with Faith the night before, and the itch felt like it was sinking further and further down into her frame, into her muscles and her nerves. She figured the longer she spent physically exerting that energy, the more she could push it out of her.

It only semi-worked. She still didn't feel too much better, just a little sore. She stepped out of the shower, heaving a sigh as she headed to her bedroom and got dressed. Today was a new day. Maybe it would end up better than the last.

These had been Buffy's thoughts before she had walked into the dining room and, upon hearing a smug and calm, "Hey, B," had looked up to see Faith grinning at her from the ceiling. The ceiling on which she stood upside down, defying gravity, as if it were an everyday occurrence – add to that the look in her eyes and Buffy knew instantly that something was wrong.

"Faith… What the – "

"I was a little on edge last night, but don't worry – I fixed it." She dropped abruptly from the ceiling, flipping and landing in a crouch on the table in front of the other woman. Buffy cursed herself for jumping slightly. "What's the matter, B?"

Buffy squinted her eyes, realization instantly washing over her. "What did she do to you?"

Faith slid forward very close, her words coming out low, her eyes gleaming. "Freed me."

Buffy shook her head, backing up. "No… No, Faith, you can't give in. That's what she wants. This is what she's been trying to do this entire time, you can't – "

"What can't I do? I'm pretty sure I can do anything I want, now." Her eyes moved up and down Buffy's frame before she stood and gracefully jumped off the table.

Buffy felt a flame flare up inside of her. It was like the wall separating the past from the present had crumbled in an instant, and all their ghosts were flying around them and creating a scene that was miserably familiar. This couldn't be happening. She didn't ever want to experience this again. She couldn't even tell if she was angry, or distressed, or terrified. There was a throbbing in her chest; maybe this was what a panic attack felt like.

"This can't be happening," she repeated her thought out loud, staring Faith down. "I don't believe it." And she almost didn't. …..Almost.

"I just wanted a way to deal with all this…crap inside of me, you know?" Her voice almost sounded normal, almost like they could be having a normal conversation. …..Almost. "So I found a solution. I'm pretty good at that."

"Not that good," Buffy countered in a heartbeat, not breaking her gaze.

"You don't think I can handle my own problems, B?"

"Well, besides running away like a wuss, coming back with no explanation and then finding every excuse to act all tortured and play more mind games like you always do, yeah, I'd say you're doing just fine," Buffy said, knowing her barbs would hit their target.

Faith's mask of smugness instantly transformed into barely tempered rage as she took a threatening step forward. For a split second she faltered, her head turning to the side and her arms twitching as if she was fighting something off. Then it was gone. But it didn't escape the other slayer. "You think you've got it all figured out. You don't even know the half of it."

"Kinda hard when you bury it all and then go letting demons pollute you with shit." She moved her face in toward Faith's, challenging. Unafraid. At least on the outside.

Instead of the reaction she expected, Faith laughed a little. "As if you've been completely honest. Or did you just run out of the room last night because you really had to tinkle?"

_Damn it, Faith. _"All right, enough. If we're done blowing smoke up each other's asses I'm gonna go find a way to fix this." She wasn't going to continue to let Faith drag her into these situations, especially with whatever the demon had put in her. Maybe it would really be this easy. Maybe she could just leave the room. She went to move. Faith caught her shoulder and slammed her back into the wall.

"I don't think so." Faith's grip was painfully tight, and Buffy realized she was much stronger than usual. She could barely move the shoulder she had pinned.

"She gave you powers, didn't she?"

Faith faked enthusiasm. "Look who gets an A+."

"They're infecting you, Faith. You can't let them. This isn't going to solve anything!" Buffy saw the slight falter again, this time reaching Faith's eyes. She took advantage. "I know you're in there, Faith. I know you. You're stronger than this. Don't you remember everything you told me last night?" This time Faith broke her gaze, looking away and blinking rapidly, her breath shuddering. Her grip relaxed just enough that Buffy was able to quickly push forward and switch their positions. "Faith!"

A loud crackle behind her was the only warning she got before she was thrown to the ground, skidding across the floor until she collided with the wall. She looked up and realized it wasn't Faith who had done it; the demon stood in the middle of the room, looking between the two women. She moved towards the other slayer, her voice coming out in a purr.

"Faith… Don't let her fool you. She just wants to be back in control, to make sure she's on top. She's trying to trick you."

"Oh, I am so gonna kick your ass," Buffy spat, getting up. The demon quickly turned and shot an energy ball in her direction, barely missing her as she dove out of the way.

"She just wants to confuse you. I have given you the control you've always wanted, the power to do whatever you want and make sure you can't ever get hurt again."

"Oh, shut _up." _Buffy rolled her eyes, got up and moved forward again, but this time another energy ball caught her shoulder and spun her headlong into the doorframe.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? Freedom. All anyone here has ever done is mistrust you, ignore you, hate you. Accepting you, caring for you, it's all just been an act to be able to further damage you. Don't you see? Isn't that what she's been doing this whole time? Teasing you. Taunting you. Snatching it away at the last second…"

Faith seemed rooted to the wall, lost somewhere inside herself, her head slowly going back and forth, occasionally looking up.

Buffy stood up again. "Don't listen to her, Faith! She's a soulless evil bitch!"

"Watch your mouth." The demon waved her hand and sent Buffy flying again, this time into the table.

Faith's head snapped up. "Buffy!"

The demon quickly caught her chin in her hand, forcing her to look at her. "She doesn't care about you, Faith. And you've made too many mistakes, taken too much. You can't go back now. What's left of you? Only this." She paused. "Remember my offer I made to you all that time ago." She glanced down at the amulet around Faith's neck. Her voice came out in a hiss and her eyes glinted dangerously. "We could be a team. We would be _unstoppable._"

"Faith… She's wrong. You're different now. You _have_ changed. And doing this won't solve anything, you _know_ that. Don't let her influence you!" She got up and moved forward. "I'm right here, listen to me!" This time she managed to roll out of the way of the thing's path. She ran forward and grabbed the demon's shoulders, throwing her halfway across the room. She took a moment to stare into Faith's eyes, which looked distant. She put a hand on the side of her face, not trying to be gentle. "Faith. Look at me. This demon has no power over you. Do you understand? I know how strong you are, and I know it takes more than that to reach you. You are _not_ worthless. _You belong here."_ She was ripped away by the demon, who threw her into another wall.

"Can't you just learn to play dead?" she hissed, advancing on Buffy. Before she could do anything else, she was hit from the side by an energy ball. Buffy looked to see Willow standing in the doorway. She sent another energy ball at the demon, but this time it was deflected and sent flying out the window with a loud smash.

"_Stupid witch." _She sent an angry bolt of electricity toward the redhead, but Willow quickly levitated out of the way. That was when Buffy realized Faith was missing. She looked all around the room and ran out of the other entrance into the kitchen. No Faith. She ran around into the foyer.

"Faith?"

She felt the air momentarily leave her lungs as she was thrust back against the wall, staring into the other slayer's face which looked somewhere between angry, confused, scared, and other things she couldn't identify. She felt her breath hot on her face, coming out in gasps. The amulet around her neck was glowing fiercely.

"What did last night mean?" She searched the other woman's eyes. She twitched again.

"Faith… I…"

"She will never understand you," came the demon's voice from seemingly nowhere, as Buffy's gaze flitted around and couldn't find her. Wasn't she still battling Willow? "None of them ever will. You are alone… All alone…"

"Don't listen, Faith," Buffy countered, bringing her hands up to the sides of her face and pressing her forehead against hers. "You do have power. You have the power to make your own decision."

"_Silence her," _came the voice.

"This thing is _evil. _It. Doesn't. Care. About you. It just wants to use you against us… Against me. Don't let it win." She was stunned to find her eyes were wet. She blinked rapidly.

"All of this can be dust. Gone. Forgotten. No pain." The battle sounds coming from the dining room had stopped. Faith made a noise in her throat like she was in agony, like she was struggling, her eyes tightly shut.

Buffy knew she didn't have much time. She put her mouth up against Faith's ear and whispered harshly. "_I trust you, Faith."_ The other woman instantly pulled back, staring at her in shock, the fog gone from her eyes as if a switch had been flipped. Searching for sincerity, for truth. Buffy pushed everything she wanted her to know through her gaze, which stayed locked onto the other slayer's. Until Faith was knocked away from her and the demon finally reappeared.

"You will never beat me." The demon grinned maliciously at Buffy, who for some reason felt suddenly uneasy. Then she turned to Faith. "There is no redemption for you, Faith. Remember how you felt when you came to me last night? Remember all the fury? This is who you are," its voice wrapped around Faith, enveloping her. "Prove who you are!"

Faith rose, standing tall between the two. Her face was contorted with rage and suffering, as if she was still fighting something no one could see. She began to shake as she raised her arms, powerful electricity shooting all around her hands. She faced Buffy. _No, _Buffy thought. _No…_

_ "END IT!" _the demon shrieked. Faith screamed, a wild, guttural sound, and in a split second spun around and directed all of the power at the creature, lifting her off the floor with the force of it. Her roars were drowned out by the crackling, what sounded like a thunderstorm as she writhed and twisted in midair, dying. Faith was still screaming, until finally the demon exploded with one final screech and disappeared in a giant haze. Faith crumpled to the ground.

Buffy's immediate instinct was to do the same, but then she remembered who had just come to her aid. She ran into the dining room. "Willow?"

Her friend was lying on the floor, blood trailing down her face from a wound on her head. Buffy quickly checked her pulse, which was quite strong. She ran to get the First Aid kit and smashed right into Xander.

"Jesus, Buff, what's the matter? And what the hell happened in here? I get back from the store and it sounds like a tornado's ripping through the house."

"Did you see anything?" She looked around at the now Faith-less foyer.

"No. What – "

"Go get the First Aid kit and help Willow. She's knocked out in the dining room." Without any further explanation, she went upstairs, figuring Faith – hopefully – hadn't left.

* * *

"It can _possess people?" _Xander said incredulously, practically spitting out his giant bite of pizza all over Willow.

"That's what this says. I wanted to do some final double checking and I came across this in one of the sources I'd kind of skimmed over before. Apparently if it's not killed by the incantation _meant _to kill it, which I was getting to before the she-bitch knocked me out, it can come back in the form of possession and that requires an entirely different spell. And some supplies I'll need."

"So it can come back…_inside _one of us?" He looked deeply disturbed.

"Well, it's not like you'd be aware of what was happening. …I don't think."

"We'll have to keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior," Giles put in. "It could possess someone and simply spy on us. Lie in wait until the perfect moment."

"I don't like the sound of that," Xander said, frowning.

"Have any of you seen Faith?" Buffy entered the room. "I haven't seen her since…the whole debacle yesterday."

"I saw her walking around on the trails out back yesterday. I wonder if she even went to bed last night, after everything that happened," Willow said softly. She shook her head and looked at Buffy. "There's some more information I just found that you might want to be aware of. Hopefully this is the last surprise we get."

* * *

Faith hadn't been able to sleep most of the night. She'd used up a lot of energy kicking the shit out of everything in the training room, then went for a run, then a walk, then another run. Around midnight she finally went to bed and just tossed and turned for hours before giving up and going for another walk, this time down to the cemetery, and killing things. But every time she killed something she got this nauseas feeling in her stomach and just zoned out, and came to and didn't know how much time had passed. Whatever the demon had given her had gone away when she killed it, but she felt like something was still off. She couldn't even describe to _herself _how it had felt to have that energy and intensity coursing through her. It was something dark and powerful that she had never experienced before, better and worse than any drug she had ever done. Like she was on another plane, but still present in this one. Like she was connected to every type of barrier to pain, and nothing could stop her, and it just felt so _good _but at the same time very, very wrong.

She had never had the intention of actually letting anything that extreme happen. She knew what she'd been doing. She'd planned it. But once the powers actually entered her, it was a complete assault on every level. She thought she'd be able to handle it. She didn't know it would feel so….._fascinating_. It was like an infection. She kept trying to fight it off, to remember why she was doing it – she had to act like she'd been completely contaminated so the demon would believe it. But in doing so it actually _had..._almost…At least enough to make her feel like she was practically being ripped in half, and the other half of her was having a hell of a time doing anything about it. How could she face Buffy after that? She didn't know the truth, and who'd believe it?

She knelt beside the dresser in her room, forehead to the floor. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, concentrating on feeling her lungs expand. _I am not the same person I used to be. _Can people really change? _Things are much different now._ Does it matter? _I paid my debt_…at least partially. Does it truly count for anything? That part of me will always be there, in some form. It makes up who I am. _I tried. I am still trying_. _I will never give up._ _I can evolve._

It felt like a very long time had passed before she lifted her head up and opened her eyes. She slowly stood up after several moments, staring at her reflection in the mirror. It had been a very long time since she had been able to do so without feeling some level of aversion. In this moment, she didn't know how to feel. She just stared into her own eyes, traveling around the image of her face. Imagining how others saw her. How they had seen her in the past.

The right side of her body bristled unnaturally and she looked over. There was nothing there. She squinted in suspicion. She took a small step forward, and that's when the air shifted just slightly, abnormally. She caught a glimpse of something she knew couldn't be real. But her heart momentarily stopped, and the air all but forced itself out of her lungs as she stumbled backwards in terror. _No... No no no no no…_ The momentary sight of Allan Finch's dead body was seared fresh into her vision. She had fought for years to forget it. Before she could make another move, still staring in shock at the now empty spot on the carpet, there was another flash – this time the dead geology professor. Then it was gone. Her heart hammered against her ribcage so hard it was painful. She felt like she was going to pass out. She struggled to breathe as she blinked away stinging tears. _What is doing this? Do I deserve this? _I must deserve this… An eerie, quiet laugh came out of nowhere. Her head spun all around trying to find the source. When she saw nothing, she got up and bolted from the room.

Willow was nearly knocked down by the force of Faith running full-steam around a corner right into her. She fell back against the wall, instantly righting herself and looking at the mess before her.

"Willow! Shit. I… I don't know what just happened, I… Something was in my room. I don't know what's going on."

"Okay, calm down, just tell me what you saw." Willow put a hand on her shoulder. Faith practically shivered from how cold it felt.

"I…" To say out loud what she had seen felt roughly impossible. How could she? It would be like re-living it all over again… She looked into Willow's eyes, searching for the compassion she knew she could find there. But it wasn't.

"What?"

"It's just… Maybe we didn't totally kill the demon. Maybe there's something else it can do." She shook her head. "Something really weird is going on." She felt herself shake slightly. Her throat tightened as she forced down the urge to cry. She didn't even want to be in the house anymore. She felt like the walls were closing in on her.

Willow put her hand on the side of her face. "Faith… She was a very powerful demon. We really didn't know what we were messing with."

Faith's brow furrowed. Willow had never been this physically intimate with her. Her gaze also looked very different. Empty, yet peculiar. It was seriously creeping her out. "Willow…"

The redhead swiftly pulled herself against Faith, putting her mouth to her ear and gripping her tightly. Her voice was low and wicked. "You can never escape your past, Faith. It is _in you. You _did those terrible things."

Faith broke free of her grip and shoved herself away in horror. She looked at the possessed woman, her anxiety level spiking for the second time in five minutes. What was she going to do? Was anyone else even home? She couldn't leave her there, who knows where the demon would take Willow's body or what it would do with it. She would have to knock her out, just clock her on the head until she could find Buffy or Giles… Her mind was still swimming from what she had just seen, and she knew the demon had picked this moment for a reason. She couldn't think clearly.

She didn't move. Instead she found herself shouting, "Why can't you just stop? Why do you give so much of a shit about me? Just _LEAVE ME ALONE!"_

Willow's face grinned nastily. Her eyes sparkled sinisterly. "You're an excellent target, Faith, and a fun one. You are the perfect soul for the taking. Already washed with sin, so terrified of yourself. People like you make the best villains, because you have the added complexity of being born human, and so the levels you can reach far exceed those of evil that was…created that way. The dark side of human nature has barely been tapped yet. You can feel things we can't, and when you flip that around, it becomes a brilliant weapon. A ticking time bomb, and when you go off it'll be marvelous. Oh, just wait. The best part's still to come."

"_Fuck _you," Faith spat.

Willow's head cocked to the side, a calm yet eerie expression on her face. "What is it about Buffy?" This earned a death glare from Faith. "Why does she have so much power over you?" She looked at the slayer's clenched jaw and fists. She paused, looking her in the eye. "Is it because you know you can never have her?" Faith lunged forward with an angry shout, unable to stop herself. Willow shifted inhumanly fast to the side. Faith came at her again, and again she got out of the way. "Uh uh, don't go beating up your friend now. I don't think she'd like that very much. …Assuming she ever comes back. I kind of like this body." She looked down appreciatively at herself.

Faith took a deep breath and stepped forward, deciding on a different tactic. "You know why Buffy has power over me? Because she is the greatest, strongest person I have ever known. And not you, or anything else,will _ever _be able to change that."

Willow's face peered into hers knowingly. "She never thought much of _you _though, did she? You always fell behind her. She never gave you the reigns. Never wanted to give you a second chance, even after you turned yourself in and did the right thing? After you sat in that jail cell for three years, every night – "

"She _did!" _

"Did she?" She paused. "She must know by now, Faith. If she doesn't then she really doesn't care." She laughed. "She didn't visit you a single time. Didn't welcome you back with open arms, didn't even want you there. Didn't welcome you back the second time, either."

"Stop it." Faith tried desperately to clutch to the memories she had from before she left, after Sunnydale. Pushing out the ones the demon was conjuring. "You don't know anything. Remind me why I'm still here talking to you?"

"She's never going to love you back." Another pause. "No matter how many times you come back across the world to save her life."

Faith's head snapped forward, her eyes glinting dangerously. "How do you know – "

Willow laughed. "I take my job very seriously, Faith. I've been following you for a long time. Your love for the slayer is the only thing stopping you from being morepowerful than you can imagine. And where is she now?"

"Right here."

Faith barely registered what was happening the minute she heard Buffy's voice, but the one thing she was sure of was that at the very least, the other woman had heard the last few sentences. She turned around and caught a glimpse of blonde hair. Her head was spinning. There was a scuffle. She heard Buffy reciting something in Latin, and then Willow's body was being thrust into the air, convulsing as a black smoky substance poured from her mouth into the room. It coalesced into a thicker cloud, then burst in bright rays of light with a giant thunder-like sound and Willow fell to the floor. Buffy rushed to her side.

"Are you all right, Will?"

The other woman slowly gathered her senses, shaking her head to clear it. "What happened?"

"The demon possessed you."

"Ew."

"It's all right now, there's no way she can come back, I'm almost positive. That was definitely the last spell…"

Faith stopped hearing the conversation. Her entire body felt cold, and she was mildly certain she was going to vomit. There was absolutely no escaping this situation now. Buffy had heard everything, wrapped up nice and neat in a crazy demon nutshell, and she was going to make Faith face it. There was no avoiding it this time; there was no waiting a few days or weeks hoping it would be forgotten and get buried under all the layers built through years of doing just that. _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. _That summed up the majority of her thoughts, because really, there was also no lying her way out.

_Fuck._


End file.
